


Rubber Match

by LordofKavaka



Series: Bum Rush [2]
Category: Castle
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Assassins & Hitmen, Attempted Murder, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Sexual Situations, Conspiracy, Declarations Of Love, Developing Relationship, Elections, F/M, Friendship/Love, Murder, Mystery, Reconciliation, Reconciliation Sex, Separations, Sequel, Sex, Sexual Content, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Villains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-11-03 12:39:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 72,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/381429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordofKavaka/pseuds/LordofKavaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to EIGHT COUNT; After 3 months apart, filled with heartache and regret, a seemingly routine case changes everything and may just bring Rick and Kate back together. (Abandoned Work)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to EIGHT COUNT (reading that first might be beneficial to understanding some of the emotional carry-over, as well as the AU timeline). This is a post-KNOCKOUT AU story in which Castle had been quicker and taken the bullet for Beckett.
> 
> The title "Rubber Match" is a boxing term, meaning "the deciding match in a series of fights between two boxers where each opponent has won a fight against the other. A rubber match is usually the third fight in the series." In this scenario, KNOCKDOWN was essentially Match 1, KNOCKOUT was Match 2… making RUBBER MATCH the third and final match.

The match lit up the room for a moment before dimming. He watched as his benefactor puffed a few times until the flame took hold. The cigar end flamed to life, glowing a warm orange, and smoke billowed out around the older man's face.

He stood still and waited, taking in his surroundings. The office was covered in rich rosewood paneling, expensive artwork adorned the walls, and the desk was a dark mahogany. The ornate lamp that sat to the left was the only source of light illuminating the room. It wasn't much, but it was just enough to show the refined tastes of its owner.

"Lockwood was fool," his benefactor spoke in a commanding voice, breaking the silence and puffing on the cigar. "He was arrogant and shortsighted, and look what that got him? Dead."

He swallowed and gave a tentative nod of agreement with his employer. He had always thought that too much trust had been placed in Hal Lockwood. The man had overstepped his orders on numerous occasions. From what he had gathered, he knew that Lockwood's ultimatum to Montgomery had not been the plan. Their employer wanted the detective silenced, but not in the way Lockwood was going about it. With Lockwood, things always got… messy.

"Montgomery had balls, I'll give him that," his benefactor said, leaning back in his luxurious chair, the leather creaking slightly with the shift of his weight. He removed the cigar from his lips and fiddled with it in his fingers. "He took down Lockwood and the other goons, but you… you, my dear Andreievich… you are my shining star." He paused, bringing the cigar back to his lips, puffing on it for a moment before taking it back out. "So… my question for you is this? I give you one simple assignment. Very simple. Should have been easy. So how is it that you've returned… unsuccessful?"

Andre swallowed hard and averted his gaze, feeling the hard glare of his employer. The assignment at the cemetery had been more difficult than he had anticipated. He was used to large crowds, but not for what had happened when the scope of his rifle had flashed in the sunlight. "That writer… the one that follows her around," his accent was barely noticeable, he could easily pass as an American even though he had spent most of his life in mother Russia.

"Yes? What about him?" his employer gave a gruff nod of annoyance.

"He dove in front of her… he took the bullet for her."

From what little research he had done prior to his assignment, Andre could not comprehend why the famous author would do such a thing. It was ridiculously stupid. Sure, it was clear that he was friends with the detective, but Andre would never have guessed that the man would so willing toss himself into harm's way for her.

"The fool is in love, Andreievich," his employer chuckled softly, rolling the cigar around in his hand.

Yes. Andre had figured as much when he had seen the author dive in front of the detective. Though, he still could not understand. From his own quick research it was clear she did not return the author's feelings. Though, his assignment had not really called for that thorough of a search into his target's background. Most of his work was done overseas.

Andre had been called in for this special assignment. He was still a little confused over why it was so important that this detective be silenced. All he knew was that this was something personal, something not part of normal operations… hence the hiring of Lockwood and his associates. But it was not Andre's place to question things, so he ignored his own confusion and did his job.

After he had taken the shot, hiding in plain sight dressed in a maintenance worker's uniform, Andre had watched it all unfold. Once he figured out that he had missed, and that the writer had taken the bullet instead of its intended target, he carefully made his escape. Though, the speed of his escape had caused some problems. He was aware of the vehicle collisions that took place when he ran a red light.

Presently, his employer was still rolling his cigar around in his fingers, though Andre took note that the man's gaze had hardened. "Perhaps we've finally found her weak spot, then."

"Sir?"

"This author…  _this_ … what was his name?"

"Richard Castle, sir," Andre supplied.

"Yes, yes," the older man nodded. "I've read some of his work. Pulp fiction trash, if you ask me." He paused and narrowed his eyes. "So… Richard Castle…," he mulled around with his thoughts for a moment. "She obviously cares for him… a great deal. From my contacts within 1PP, I've learned she's taken the entire week off, and my sources in that hospital say that she has hardly left his side." He gave a satisfied smile. "I think it is clear that Richard Castle means more to her than just an annoying ride-along. He is her rock, the anchor that holds her steady in the stormy sea. Without him, she will flounder and crumble."

"You want me to kill him?"

"Ha… no," the older man chortled softly, shaking his head as he brought the cigar back between his teeth for a few more puffs. "Not kill him, no. That would be too easy, she'd seek answers then. She's already determined to find me because of…" he hesitated, glancing up at Andre, "that crusader mother of hers. No," he shook his head decidedly, "I will not give her yet another reason to hunt me down."

Pausing, he pulled the cigar out of his mouth yet again, cradled it in two fingers and leaned forward, using his other hand to reach for the phone on the side of the desk.

"I'll make a call. Montgomery may be gone, but he's not the only one I have. There are still some at 1PP that owe me a favor or two."

Andre smirked softly to himself. Some of them called their employer  _The Spider_ , because like a spider, he had a vast web of contacts and informants, and people who were indebted to him.

"A life debt, you mean?" Andre allowed himself to grin at his own wit.

The Spider nodded. "Now you're getting it," he stuck the cigar in his mouth and puffed on it some more, blowing out a large plume of smoke. "Detective Beckett won't know what hit her." He finished dialing then held the receiver up to his mouth and waited for the other end to pick up. "Hello… yes, it's me… I've got something I want you to do."


	2. Chapter 2

_They were falling, the world around them spinning out of control, a dizzying display of lights and sounds. They were falling backwards, landing hard on the freshly cut grass. She felt a weight come to rest heavily on her chest. She had expected some sort of pain or terrible ache or stinging, but not this warmth that was spreading out across her and over her uniform._

_She closed her eyes, trying to remember the word that the voice had screamed before she had fallen, before she had been pulled, tugged forcefully to the ground._

_"KATE!"_

_Her name. It had been her name that the faceless voice had screamed. And it had been him that had collided with her, bringing her down to the ground. It was his weight that was holding her down, keeping her trap underneath, pressed into the wet grass._

_The loud piercing sound was recognizable now. It had been a gunshot… from a sniper. Yet she felt nothing to indicate she had been shot... no pain or ache. All she felt was a strange warmth enveloping her. Blinking, she looked up into his eyes, and her eyes widened in horror, hearing him let out a strangled gasp, his mouth hanging open, and his eyes filling with indescribable agony._

" _No," she whimpered softly, feeling him go limp over her as he teetered awkwardly, slipping and collapsing besides her. The word came out filled with a gut wrenching pain she had never felt before. She could not believe this. Not him. Not after everything that had happened. She had lost her captain—her friend and mentor; she could not lose him as well. Not when there was so much left unsaid, so much more that she wanted to tell him, that she needed to tell him._

_She moved over him, pushing her hand hard on the spot on his chest where the warmth had been coming from. His blood. It had been his blood that had been coating her in that strange horrific warmth. She felt awful to have somewhat obliviously enjoyed that feeling, especially now, when she knew that it was his life's force that had been slowly leaving his body. Shifting her other hand, she placed it under his neck, cradling his head._

_She franticly looked into his eyes, beseeching, making a desperate plea. "No… Castle. Stay with me. You hear me, Castle? Stay with me! Don't leave me," she begged. Of all the things... just when she had finally realized what she needed, what she wanted. Just when she had finally reconciled her feelings and had gained the courage to admit to herself that she was in love with him, that she had been for well over a year, long before she had started dating Josh—it was like the fates now seemed determined to taunt her, as if they reveled in watching her suffer in despair and anguish._

_They had taken her mother away from her, and for a time, her father as well. Yet they had given her dad back. Then they had stolen the man who had become an almost second father to her, her captain, her mentor… Roy. And now… when she needed Castle the most of all, the damned fates decided to take him too, and leave her… leave her with nothing. Alone and miserable._

" _Castle… you stay with me, okay?" her voice cracked._

_She watched in a blurred vision, tears cascading down her face, as his head lulled around in agony. His breath was thin and hollow, yet despite that, he was still able to summon the strength to speak to her._

" _Kate…," he called out her name in a long tremor of want and longing, almost in an agonizing plea, one that nearly broke her heart. His eyes were moist with tears of pain, regret, and grief, yet they still searched for her. When he found her, his eyes softened and the faintest of smiles touched his trembling lips._

" _Kate… I love you," he murmured, his lips curving upwards slightly in a surreal smile of delight that he was finally able to say it aloud. He fought against the pain and forced it out again, repeating the declaration. "I love you, Kate."_

_The tears continued to pour from her eyes as she tried to choke them back, but she could not stop them, they came unhindered and free. She had waited so long to hear him say that, to know she was so much more than just an infatuation, a prize to win, a conquest… another notch on the bedpost. She shook her head in despair, willing him to take those words back. If he had not just said them, then he would have to live so that he could say them again._

_As his eyes closed and his muscles began to relax, his head falling back, she let the anguished sob out of her throat, working past the damnable lump that had formed there. He could not go… not after saying that. She… she had to tell him too, tell him that she felt the same. Give him a reason to fight, to stay with her._

" _No… Castle… don't! Don't go! Rick… Rick?"_

_No response. Closing her eyes, she doubled over, clutching at him, grieving for all the pain and loss that had to occur because he loved her._

_BEEP!_

_BEEP!_

_BEEP!_

She blinked, her eyes opening wide as the short, high pitched sounds invaded her senses. Kate Beckett heaved in a deep gasp of air, filling her lungs, as she jolted awake in the extremely uncomfortable plastic chair she had unintentionally fallen asleep in. Sweat beaded her brow, and her heart was hammering rapidly in her chest as the memories swarmed over her, engulfing and permeating. She looked about frantically, searching for him, needing to see him after reliving the whole tragic event in her mind—both the worse and happiest day of her life.

Beckett was still conflicted on how she should feel about Montgomery. Her emotions ran the gambit: Betrayal, grief, sadness, anger… everything. Yet that was not what had caused her current tumult of emotions. It had been one single bullet. Within moments, Castle was sprawled over her, bleeding out, dying, because of her. Because of  _her_  obsession. She felt terrible, as it was, what with how long she'd been denying the thing between them. But this… this was worse, when she hadn't been given the chance. And then… then he beat her to the punch and confessed his feelings.

Sitting straight up, groaning slightly at the ache in her back from having fallen asleep in the uncomfortable chair, Beckett's eyes landed on his sleeping form. She scooted forward, onto the edge of the chair, and reached out, grabbing his hand. A sigh of relief released as soon as she felt the warmth there, the proof that blood still pumped through his veins. That he was, in fact, alive.

Tentatively, Beckett pulled his hand up and placed his palm on her cheek. Closing her eyes, she eased into his hand, letting out another sigh of relief and gratitude to the universe that he had not been taken away from her, that he was still alive, and that he loved her.

Five days had passed since he had regained consciousness after his life saving surgery, performed by Josh, no less. Thank god that relationship was done with. She knew in her heart she should have ended it sooner with Josh, but she had not yet been ready to admit what she truly wanted then. It had taken the death of Mike Royce to finally kick her out of her stupidity. His letter was still tucked in her pocket.

Sighing, she looked up at Castle, watching his eyes moved beneath his lids. When he had finally woke from his drug-induced sleep, Beckett had told him… told him how she felt. And then she kissed him. It had not been passionate or intense, as their undercover kiss had been, but it had been a kiss of true feelings and raw emotions. And it had been real.

He had fallen back to sleep not long after, and when he woke up again he didn't remember it. That hurt more than the torment she had gone through while waiting to see if he'd survive the surgery. When she questioned the attending physician, the doctor told her that it was quite normal. Castle's body had been through a lot of trauma, and it would take him a while to recover. Until then, most of it would probably be a blur to him… at least that is what the doctor had told her.

So, Beckett refrained from any more romantic gestures. Though, she still held his hand and spoke with him, she decided it would be best now to wait until he had fully recovered until she disclosed her feelings again, and finally gave him a more proper kiss… and in a more proper setting, like his Loft or her apartment—someplace where they could not be interrupted.

The past week had rocked her world, shaken it to its very foundations. She was now fully aware and committed, no longer willing to deny how she felt. It was time now to ignore all the fears and worries. She was ready to risk it all, risk everything that she was to have his love. Yet despite all the reassurance and warmth that came with that newfound knowledge, the dream—the memories—still haunted her.

It should have been her. Not him. He was innocent in all this. A victim in her crusade to bring to justice the murderers of her long dead mother. It was not his fight. He should never have been involved. But he was. He had reopened the case, without her consent. That had almost ended them, after their first year. But he had come back, and she let him stay.

Why  _had_  she let him stay?

In retrospect, the answer to that question was so obvious. Even back then, she had some feelings for him, or rather they were buried deep within her subconscious where she didn't have to think about them. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't been attracted to him from the start. Sure, he was annoying as hell, a complete jackass, but still, he was Richard _freaking_  Castle, and she'd sort of had a crush on him ever since she had first seen his picture on the back of one of his books. But he was nothing like she expected, and she let her initial reaction taint everything she felt.

And then he surprised her, everyday, slowly revealing glimpses into the real him, the real Richard Castle. He still had a bit of that philandering playboy, but there was more to him than that, and it had surprised her. She didn't fail to notice how he started to clean up his image after they'd met. He shaved more often, stopped coming into the precinct with a constant five o'clock shadow. He still behaved like a child at times, but she actually liked that about him.

His ability to be spontaneous and fun was a balm to scars she thought she'd covered and sealed long ago. It was like Montgomery had said, she hadn't had any fun until Castle came along, and that was true. Life was more interesting with Castle in her life. And it got to the point where she couldn't imagine a life without him in it.

Beckett took in a ragged breath as she gently placed his hand back down on the hospital bed, her thoughts still swirling about.

After he had stabilized, the doctors transferred him out of the luxurious private room. So he was now in a shared room, with another patient in recovery, only a dull grey curtain to pull between them for privacy. At first they were going to keep him in the private room, but Castle had been coherent enough to protest, saying he didn't want preferential treatment because of his fame.

"This room is nice, and all, but it should really go to someone who is more deserving," he had said.

"Castle… you've been shot," Beckett had objected.

"Yeah, I know," he nodded. "But I'll live. I'll survive. This… this room, someone who's in much more critical condition should have it. Someone who really needs it. Just because I'm Rick Castle shouldn't mean I get this room, especially when there is probably someone else out there who needs the privacy more than I do."

Beckett had turned and looked at Dr. Hoover for help. But she found none. The man followed his patient's wishes and had him transferred to the room they were now occupying with another tenant. And despite his protests that she didn't need to stay, Beckett had hardly left his side in the past five days. The only times she did were to use the restrooms or get something to eat, and she usually only did that when Martha and Alexis, or the boys, were there to watch over Castle while she was gone.

Letting her breathing calm as she returned to the present and away from the memories that haunted both her waking and sleeping hours, Beckett leaned back into the awful chair and wiped away the tears that had manifested in her eyes. She could not help but feel an overwhelming sense of guilt at what had happened to him, all because he loved her. There was no reason for him to get shot, for him to get hurt this way. She was the cop. It was her job to take the bullet, not his.

Resting her aching back against the terrible backrest of the plastic chair, Beckett allowed her eyes to drift over his sleeping form. A small smile tugged at her lips, forcing them to move upwards despite her sorrowful and pensive mood. Regardless of the awful toll the whole ordeal had taken on his body, giving him hollowed eyes, pale and clammy skin, he was still very ruggedly handsome, and still cheeky too.

Castle seemed determined not to get remorse or depressed, or allow this tragedy to affect his normal upbeat behavior. During the past five days, he had kept pestering her about when she was going to give him that sponge bath. Out of all the things he could remembered from his first time waking up, of course it had to be that!

It had taken a while, but his breathing was better, though he wasn't completely out of the woods just yet. Castle had lost a lot of blood and had flat lined on the operating table one too many times for Beckett's liking… she didn't even want to think about it. He was going to have to stay in the hospital recovery center for at least two more weeks, followed by several months of physical therapy. But what was currently eating at Beckett was that it was coming to the time that she would have to give up her constant vigil over her favorite writer and go back to work.

There was still a shooter to catch, and still a new Captain to meet. There was so much to do, and she was going to have to do it all without him by her side, like she had grown accustomed too. At least, until he fully recovered. But even then, she did not know if she should him by her side. Not because she didn't want him by her side—because god knows she did, more than anything! But because it was risking too much to have him there.

Beckett set her jaw, her lips turning into a flat line as she stared out into nothing, lowering her eyebrows as she pondered over her decision. Even with the admission of mutual love out there, she was going to have to do it. If anything, for his safety, as much as for her own peace of mind. She knew what she was going to have to do. She didn't like it, but it had to be done.

She was going to have to push him away.

Coming to terms with this decision had been difficult, to say the least, especially with how, whenever he was awake, he'd tease and banter with her from his bed, being the typical Castle. Though their talks often seemed full of so much loaded innuendos that half the time she didn't know what to do. It might have been funny if it had been under different circumstances.

Yet, her feelings notwithstanding, Beckett was determined to see this through. No matter how painful it was going to be, she would make sure that Castle was safe… that he was out of harm's way.

Leaning back, she removed her phone from her pocket and skimmed through her contacts. Finding the one she wanted, Beckett pressed the call button and brought her cell up to her ear, waiting as it rung. Absently, she reached out with her free hand and played her fingers across Castle's before slowly interlocking them together. God, how she loved this man.

"Hi, Alexis... it… uh… it's Kate," she spoke softly, glancing up at the sleeping writer. "I… I have an idea that hopefully will keep your dad safe."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor spoilers for HEAT RISES, in case you haven't read it yet.

Richard Castle sat at his desk, staring at the blinking cursor on the screen. He had finished _Heat Rises_  before the incident—that's what he was calling it—but after he got out of the hospital, he had made some changes to the ending. Black Pawn had loved them, saying that they made for a more compelling story, one that would have the readers clamoring for more. Castle had thought so, since it mirrored real life so much. After all, wasn't that what his Nikki Heat books were, an imitation of real life… a cheap imitation at that.

If he were being honest with himself, he'd call it more of a fanciful delusion. A fantasy. Part of him wished her was more like Jameson Rook, who wasn't so scared and afraid to admit his feeling for the tough and savvy Detective Heat. Rook put himself out there, in a way Castle wished he had the courage to do.

He sighed and leaned back into his chair, rubbing his fingers through the thick bristles of the beard he had grown on his face during his recovery and convalescence in the Hamptons. Castle would have preferred to have remained in New York, at his Loft, closer to  _her_ , but Alexis had insisted, nearly pleading with him to go to the Hamptons for the summer. He had looked into her big blue eyes and he could not deny her. She was worried about him, concerned for his health, and he couldn't blame her.

Oh, but how he had missed  _her_.

But he was so confused, so conflicted in what to believe. His thoughts were a jumble. He could have sworn that at one point in the hospital he had woke up to receive a kiss from her—a dream come true, by the way—and then the next moment, she'd gone all withdrawn and cold, distancing herself from him. He wondered which was the dream and which was reality. Knowing his luck, the kiss was probably a dream.

After he'd stabilized, and was more coherent enough to be aware of his surroundings, which was probably about a week after the surgery, he hardly saw her. Though he thought he remembered her being by his side for that week. So he couldn't understand why she'd suddenly disappeared. For heaven's sake, Ryan and Esposito visited him more than  _her_! He didn't understand, and it did not help that all he could think about was  _her_.

He couldn't even think her name, it was that bad. If he thought her name, he'd come close to a panic attack, and start hyperventilating. Alexis had been with him on more than one of those occasions, and Castle hated the terrified look of horror that took over her face when those panic attacks hit him.

It always returned to one idea. Maybe it had all been a dream. He had, after all, been on heavy pain medications at the time. So perhaps he had just imagined Kate Beckett kissing him when he first woke up, not to mention the memories of her vigil by his side for the majority of his first week as she stubbornly kept refusing to give him that sponge bath he so wanted her to administer. A lot of his first few days in the hospital, after he had regained consciousness, were a blur. Though, he thought they had kissed, at least once, and that she had held his hand more intimately than she had ever touched him before.

But she had told him they were over, that night in her apartment, before the incident. And maybe they were. Montgomery's death had been traumatic and heartbreaking for her. So Castle suspected that she had allowed him back for just that brief interval, before she went back to work… without him, which, after all, is what she wanted. Right?

She had her motorcycle doctor boy. She didn't need him. She didn't need Richard Castle, playboy mystery author anymore. And besides, he'd already gotten enough research to write fifty Nikki Heat books. He didn't need to tagalong anymore, irritating and frustrating her to no end. There was no hope there, so why should he waste his time with it?

_Why?_

Dear god, did he know the answer to that! And it plagued him, not knowing if the confession he believed he had made when he had been lying there, dying, in the cemetery had been real or imagined. Like much of the time surrounding the incident and its aftermath, Castle had trouble knowing what was a dream and what was not.

But judging from how she had withdrawn and gone distant on him, he figured it had all been a dream… a wonderful dream. She was over with him, and even if his recollections always pictured Kate by his side in the hospital, always with her head in one of  _his_  books and one hand interlaced with his, were true, they were clearly not enough.  _He_  was not enough. Maybe he was just destined to have a really crappy love life.

Castle heaved in a deep sigh and shook his head, returning his gaze to the blank screen and the blinking cursor that taunted him. It was time he got to work on his next book. He had outlined it not long after finishing  _Heat Rises_ , but now he was unsure if his intended plans fit the characters. Did Nikki and Rook really belong together? They were, after all, fictional versions of him and Kate. And if Kate and him weren't going to be together, then should Nikki and Rook be together.

Biting the inside of his cheek, he cocked his head and looked over at the large promotional poster for  _Heat Rises_  that he still had sitting up in the easel. Gina had sent over some test samples for future covers, and he still needed to go over them. He thought it might be easier to pick an image and develop a story from it. But it had been harder than he had anticipated, staring at a silhouette of Nikki Heat, and imagining the real life, flesh and blood woman who had inspired her.

He sighed again, this time with much more melancholy. Maybe he should rethink this book series. A trilogy was a good run for a character, sure not as many as Derrick Storm, but still… it was good, right?

His phone rang, and he absently looked at the Caller ID.  _Gina_.

Letting out a loud groan, he reluctantly picked it up. "Yes?"

"Richard...," she sounded like she was in one of her 'moods', "please tell me you are showered, dressed, and looking sharp."

"Huh?"

"Monday, September 19th," yep, she was annoyed at him—not really a stretch when it came to their relationship. "Tomorrow,  _Heat Rises_  goes on sale."

"Oh, yes, the launch party," he let out a groan and slapped his hand against his forehead.

"Don't tell me you forgot?" There was just a hint of concern in Gina's voice, as if she believed he had potentially lost all reason and sanity.

Just like everyone else she had noticed the change in his attitude towards Nikki Heat, and the lack of inspiration during the summer. Hell, even Paula, who was usually so absorbed with the signings and appearance deals she was making for him, had noticed his morose mood and unusual lack of enthusiasm for the events he normally always relished.

"No…," he warily replied, not wanting to be inflicted with her wrath.

Luckily, even though she was clearly irritated with him, she seemed in a more favorable mood than he had originally detected. "Look, Richard, if you don't want to do this, I can call Paula and we can cancel it."

"No," he shook his head, standing up from his chair, grimacing slightly at the tight feeling in his chest when he did so. "It's alright. I need to get out of the house." He tried to laugh, but it was forced. "And besides, this was planned long before any of this happened. And Black Pawn went though a lot of trouble with it. So… so no, don't cancel it. I'll be ready."

"Alright, if you're feeling up to it," she said, soundly cautious.

"Yes, I am," Castle asserted with more confidence. He needed to move past this funk and get on with things, get on with his life… even if it didn't include  _her_.

"I'll have a town car sent to pick you up around seven, then," Gina said.

"Sounds fine."

"Right. Until tonight then, Rick," she said.

"Until tonight," he echoed, then said goodbye and hung up.

Stretching his back, yet still feeling the pull on the front of his chest from where the bullet had punctured his skin and left its mark, Castle tried to stifle the wince and walked out of his office, seeing Alexis sitting at the kitchen counter doing her homework.

"Hey, Pumpkin, when did you get back?" he asked, surprised he had not noticed the return of his beloved daughter from school.

"An hour ago," she replied, looking up at him with a soft smile as he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. Seeing his expression, she smiled more. "I didn't want to disturb you in case you had gotten some inspiration during the day."

He sighed heavily and hung his head as he leaned against the countertop. "Unfortunately, no," he said. "I've been trying, but no luck."

"Do you have a title in mind yet?" she asked, obviously trying to help.

Castle smiled down at her. She was truly the one bright spot in his life. Out of everything he had done, he was most proud of her. "I was thinking of doing something a little different, you know, maybe get Nikki and Rook out of the city." A light touched his eyes that had been missing for most of the summer during his recovery. "Perhaps  _Southern Heat_."

Alexis giggled, old enough to get the double entendre he was implying with such a title.

Castle smirked. "Add some good old fashion southern charm to the series."

She nodded. "And you have a perfect excuse for getting them out of the city," Alexis supplied, referring to how he had ended  _Heat Rises_.

He inclined his head and narrowed his eyes. "Which one of us is the writer again?"

Alexis laughed and shook her head. "You are, Dad," she answered. "Besides, I don't think you want me writing—let alone doing—some of the things you write about."

"I should say not," Castle said, turning into the overprotective father. "Not until your 40, young lady."

"But then how will you become a grandpa?"

He paled a little bit and that only seemed to make Alexis burst out into laughter all the more. "Oh, don't worry, Dad," she reached up and brushed his hair away from his brow. "I'm still your little girl."

"I only wish you could stay that way…  _forever_ ," he said softly.

"You wish, Dad," Alexis rolled her eyes, and for a moment Castle was transported to another place and time, remembering a hauntingly beautiful brunette with hazel-green eyes who would do the very same thing whenever he made a joke.

"Dad?"

Castle shook his head and returned, feeling Alexis tighten her grip on his forearm. "Yeah, Pumpkin, what is it?" he questioned, forcing a smile.

Alexis looked like she wanted to ask something, but she bit her lip and pushed it aside. "We _are_  still going to the launch party tonight, right?" she asked instead.

"Of course," he said, leaning back.

"Are you going to shave?" she asked, giving his chin a hard look.

"What?" he scoffed in feigned indignation rubbing the bristles along his face and chin. "I think it makes me look even more rugged."

Alexis laughed. "Well, I know how you like going for the roguish rugged look, but I doubt your fangirls—is that what they are?—will appreciate it as much as you do, Dad," she rolled her eyes, again reminding him of someone else.

"Well, they'll just have to live with it, now won't they?" he replied with a smirk, almost feeling like his old self, though there was still that emptiness in his heart that only  _she_  could fill.

"Whatever you say, Number One," Alexis grinned.

Castle laughed. "Oh, Star Trek joke. I like that."

"You would," Alexis said, shifting on the barstool. "Sometimes, you’re such a nerd, Dad." She paused, and sighed. "Why don't you go and get ready, while I finish my homework, okay?"

"What? Then have me sit around and wait for you to get ready?" he scoffed, again feigning indignation.

Alexis gave him a hard look. "Dad… believe me when I tell you, I'll be ready way before you are," she asserted.

"Oh, and how's that, my brilliant offspring?"

"For one… I've showered more than once this week," she said, scrunching up her nose.

"Really? That bad?" he lifted his arm and took a whiff, then gasped in disbelief. "Yep… that bad." He smirked. "Alright, sweetheart, I'm off to make myself smell like an apple orchard."

"An apple orchard?" Alexis raised her eyebrows, uncertain. "The last apple orchard we went to, you spooked a skunk and smelled awful for a week."

"That was when you were, what... seven? Eight?" Castle asked and furrowed his brow. "And you remember that?"

Alexis shook her head. "Just go get cleaned up, Dad. Grams will be back soon and I don't think you want another lecture from her about how important it is putting on a nice show for the cameras again. Not to mention, she'll probably complain about that thing on your face, again."

"Good heavens, no," Castle shuddered. He quickly kissed his doting daughter on her head, and then skedaddled off to shower and get ready for the big launch event. But he wasn't going to shave. Hell no. He liked his beard. And he was going to keep it. Though perhaps he'd trim it a bit, just for the launch party.


	4. Chapter 4

_The red liquid poured out gracefully, sloshing slightly around the rounded curve of the bottom of the glass before settling. Kate Beckett put the bottle down and slipped her fingers around the long stem and held her glass up, clinking it against her companion's before taking a delicate sip. She closed her eyes and inhaled the aroma, letting the flavor soak her tongue, and the alcohol burn down her throat as she swallowed. Opening her eyes, she placed the glass down on the table and reached over to pick at the cheeses arrayed on the platter before her._

" _So, girl, what's wrong?" Lanie asked after she took a sip from her glass, admittedly a much longing sip than Kate had._

_Her eyes flicked up and she looked at her friend, dressed down in casual wear, having just got off work an hour ago. Kate knitted her eyebrows together and gave a noncommittal shrug._

" _What? Nothing's wrong, Lanie," she lied, her voice almost plaintive. "Why does something have to be wrong?"_

_Lanie snorted and took another long sip of her Merlot. "Oh, please, Kate, it's been like forever since we've had a girl's night in. I'm your friend, yes, but girl, this…" she gestured between them. "This is what we do. Though, it's been a while, even since last summer when writer boy walked out with that witch of an ex-wife all over him."_

_Kate winced, at both the memory and the reminder. "Yeah… I know," she grudgingly admitted. "I'm sorry. I… I really didn't mean to shut everyone out."_

" _No, you did," Lanie interjected. She sighed and continued, giving Kate an apologetic look when she noticed her hurt expression. "Look, Kate, it's okay. It's how you operate. When you're hurt, you crawl in on yourself and keep people out. I wasn't offended. I know you."_

" _I'm still sorry," Kate said. "I kept everyone at arm's length. I… I was afraid, you know, to put my heart out there, to risk getting hurt again. I mean… I was ready, Lanie… I was."_

" _To what?"_

" _I don't know," Kate shrugged, shaking her head, not even understanding herself. "I… I guess I was more confused, than hurt. I mean, I thought he liked me—"_

" _Which he did."_

" _I know that now," Kate narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. "But, back then, when I broke things off with Tom, and was going to just jump into it with Castle… well, I still wasn't completely sure of how he felt. I knew he was attracted to me, he made no secret of that, but anything beyond that, I… I just wasn't too sure."_

" _And then his ex-wife came along…"_

" _And I was confused… and hurt," she nodded, pausing to take a sip from her wine and nibble on some cheese. "So I just withdrew, I guess, to… to protect myself. Protect my heart."_

" _And Josh?"_

_Kate sighed and slumped down onto the barstool, her shoulders sagging. "I was sick and tired of being alone," she answered, not looking at her friend. "I wanted a solid, normal relationship for once, one that could keep me grounded, yet still give me some freedom to be independent and myself."_

" _And Josh gave you that."_

" _Yeah," she nodded. "We both were career oriented, so the job came first for both of us. Sometimes… it was just nice to come home and not find an empty bed. But, it wasn't enough. Not when I really thought about it. I was in a relationship for all the wrong reasons. He was a great guy, yeah, but he just wasn't for me."_

_Lanie inclined her head, and gave a tight smile. "And when did all this come back around to Writer Boy?"_

" _Huh? What?"_

" _Come on, Kate," Lanie said giving her a hard look. "Don't play dumb with me. I know you had feelings for Castle, hell, you were probably already in love with that guy even before you started dating Josh."_

_Her eyebrows came together as Kate tried to reason a logical argument that her feelings, whatever they might have been at the time, were not the point. She didn't even know what the point was. But Lanie was right. Kate could see that. Everything always came back to Castle._

" _Alright," Kate sighed, giving in. She might as well just be honest. It was easier than concocting a lie, plus Lanie would see straight through her if she tried. "When he came back, we had this little contest to see who could solve the mystery behind the murder first. If he won, he could come back. If I won, he had to leave and never bother me again." She paused for dramatic effect. "I let him win."_

_Lanie's eyes grew wide, and she placed her glass back down on the table. "You wanted him back, even if you wouldn't admit it out loud?"_

_Kate bobbed her head, thinking back on those memories. "Yeah, I did. Esposito saw straight through it. He knew I had figured it out first, and he called me on it." She shifted. "I guess… I guess I already was in love with him then. It's the only reason I can explain for why I let him back after I had felt so hurt and confused over the summer. Just… just having him in my life, in whatever capacity, was a welcomed relief after a long summer without him."_

_She closed her eyes. "It really hit me hard, not having him there over the summer. I think it made me realize how much I needed him around."_

" _Then why didn't you say anything when he came back?"_

" _He was still with Gina," Kate countered, raising her hands as she spoke "And I… I was just starting off with Josh. It was just bad timing."_

_Lanie huffed out a laugh and smirked. "That seems to be your guys' thing," she said and took a sip of her wine before elaborating upon seeing Kate's confused expression. "Bad timing."_

" _Oh," Kate nodded in agreement. "You have no idea. By the time he broke up_ _with Gina, I had already buried myself so deep into that nowhere relationship with Josh that I couldn't get out. I had myself convinced that I could settle for him."_

_Her friend tutted her tongue at her. "Girl, sometimes I feel like smacking you."_

" _I don't blame you," Kate admitted, and then raised her eyebrows, surprised she'd just said that out loud. The wine seemed to be messing with her usually well-controlled filter._

_Lanie gave her a look and then laughed. Kate pursed her lips together, but couldn't stop the tug on her lips and soon she was laughing as well. God, it felt so good. To laugh. She hadn't had a good laugh all summer. Eventually they both calmed down, taking deep long sips of wine before buckling down and plowing on with their conversation._

" _Kate," Lanie said, her tone serious and determined, "let's forget about the fiasco that was last year, okay? I wanna focus on the root of the current problem… the reason I'm here tonight."_

_Suddenly Kate's heart was in her throat and she gulped. "Lanie…" she implored._

" _No," her friend shook her head. "We're going to talk about it."_

" _I… I don't wanna." God, she sounded like such a child._

" _Too bad," Lanie crossed her arms._

" _Fine," Kate scowled and put her glass down, matching Lanie's posture. She waved her hand in the air. "Go ahead, ask away."_

" _What's up with you and Castle?"_

" _What do you mean?"_

" _After he was shot, you were… you were a wreck, Kate," Lanie's tone softened. "I've never seen you break down like that. You really didn't know what to do with_ _yourself. That's when I knew that you really did love him."_

" _I still do," Kate murmured, her voice shaking as she fought back tears._

" _Then why aren't you with him now?" Lanie asked, sounding far more like a concerned friend than anything else. She wasn't after juicy gossip, or something she could hold over Kate and tease her about. No. Nothing like that. Right now Lanie was being exactly what she need—her friend._

" _Because I'm poison, Lanie!" Kate nearly shouted. And then the floodgates broke and she just relented to it, freeing herself of the burden on her shoulders, letting it all flow out. "I'm like a flame that attracts the fly. I'm deadly. I let people close… they burn. They're gone, Lanie. Don't you see? My mom. Gone. Montgomery. Gone. If I let Castle in, if I let him get even closer than he had been, it'd happen to him too."_

_She shook her head and closing her eyes against the tears._

" _I… I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to him," she sobbed. "He got in, Lanie. Without me even knowing it, he got in. He found a way inside and he won't leave. I care about him too much to see him sacrifice everything for me. I'm not worthy of that. I don't deserve that kind of commitment."_

" _Oh, Kate…"_

" _No, I don't!" she snapped, her eyes glistening and tears freely flowing down her cheeks as she glared at Lanie. "I'm a coward. Don't you get it?" Kate paused and took a deep breath, closing her eyes and scrubbing her hands up and down her face, remembering when everything came to a head. "We had a fight, Lanie. The night before Montgomery was killed. Castle came to my apartment and told me to walk away. He practically begged me too. But I wouldn't listen."_

" _Everyone has fights. Especially people that love one another."_

" _But that's just it," Kate said. "We both love one another, but neither of us were willing to admit that. I left an opening for him to tell me, but he chickened out."_

" _Maybe he just didn't want to take the risk that you'd reject him," Lanie put forth._

_Kate had to do a double take. Had she heard that correctly? She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Castle? Afraid of rejection?"_

" _The man may act like a womanizing playboy, but we all know that's not the real him," Lanie said. "You know that, probably better than anyone else."_

_Her eyebrows rose and she swallowed hard. Yeah. She did know. She knew it. "You're right," she said. "I'm the one that's the coward."_

_"Kate, I didn't say that."_

" _No, but it's true," Kate asserted. "He called me on it. He told me how I crawled into my mother's case and I didn't come out. That I was afraid of who I was without it. That it was the reason I hid in nowhere relationships with men I don't love." She paused, and ran her fingers through her hair, inhaling a shaky breath. "God, he hit it right on the head. He called me on it, and I… I didn't even pick the ball up. I let it fly right by."_

" _You were scared, hon," Lanie tried to reassure her, reaching across the table to grab Kate's arm and give it a soothing squeeze._

" _I told him we were over," she barely whispered it. "Then the next morning, I went to Montgomery and told him I was through with Castle and that I didn't want to see him again. I expected Montgomery to tell me, 'too bad, Mayor wants him here, he ain't going nowhere.' But no. He agreed. Castle was gone."_

_Kate sighed and forced herself to look up at Lanie. "Montgomery was my last shot to fix it, to take back what I had said without admitting I was wrong," she said. "I didn't want to admit that I was wrong."_

_Lanie gave a half-grin. "That I know, girl."_

" _But, I wanted Castle back. I wanted to take it back, for it not to be over," Kate continued. "I just couldn't do it myself. So… I was shocked—_ shocked— _that he showed up at the hangar. Damn it, Lanie… he had my back even when I threw him out. That kind of commitment, that kind of love… I don't deserve it. Especially when I'm not willing to make that same leap of faith."_

" _And that's the reason you dropped out of his life after he was released from the hospital?" Lanie asked. "Why you're moping around all summer and still lost in that daze of melancholy and longing?"_

 _Kate nodded. "I guess so. I mean... I want him, Lanie… God how I_ want  _him," she gritted her teeth, knowing very well that she was showing far more emotion than she usually did with her friend. "But I can't. Not when being around me puts a target on his back."_

" _I think you're not giving him enough credit," Lanie said. "And besides, isn't it his decision?"_

" _No," Kate said. "It's not. Not when he has Alexis. She needs him more than I do. I will not be responsible for that wonderful girl losing her father."_

_Lanie sighed, deflated. "Sorry, girl, I don't know what to say to make you feel any better. I wish I did, but I don't."_

_Kate gave her a sad knowing look. "It's okay, Lanie. There is nothing you or anyone can say. I love him, and I need him to be safe and alive, more than anything else. And if I told him that, if he knew, then he wouldn't stay away."_

_"Wait? Are you saying he doesn't know you love him?" Lanie asked. "I thought you told him."_

_"I did," Kate nodded, looking down at her near-empty glass, thinking about refilling it. "But he was still on some pretty heavy medications and drugs, he didn't remember. And even if he did, he probably thinks it was a dream. Knowing him, he's probably had lots of dreams about me… some of which are probably X-rated." She added the last bit with a slight smile, hoping to lighten the mood. She hated that she was burdening her friend with all her issues. But it did genuinely feel better to have gotten some of it off her chest. There was more. But that wasn't for now._

_Lanie chuckled and gave a nod. "Yeah, you'd get no argument from me, I've read both Nikki Heat books."_

_Kate quirked her lips up and glanced longingly over at the package sitting on the credenza by her front door. Through Black Pawn, Alexis had made sure she got an advance copy of_ Heat Rises _. She hadn't yet built up the courage to open it._ _She was afraid she wouldn't like what she read._

_Turning back to Lanie, they finished their wine and chatted some more, on less emotional topics, most of which concerned Lanie and Javier Esposito, and Ryan's upcoming wedding. They spoke briefly about the change that was to come when Kate returned to work after her days off, the change that Captain Blye was enforcing, but Kate didn't want to dwell on that one either. When they were done, Lanie bid her a goodnight and left, but not before making it clear that they weren't to wait another four months until they got together and did this again. Kate agreed and gave Lanie a quick hug before she took off._

_Alone in her apartment, Kate cleaned up. She glanced back over at the credenza and the package wrapped in brown cardboard paper. She had tomorrow off, and the following day as well. Wrapping her arms around herself, Kate stared long and hard at the package._ What the hell!  _Commanding her legs to move, she shuffled out of the kitchenette and grabbed the package, ripping the paper open as she headed for her bedroom._

XXX

The call had come earlier that day. She was supposed to have the day off, to prepare, but she didn't mind. Not at all. She needed the distraction. And working. Well, working helped her forget about things. Gave her something else to think about. And that's what she needed, today of all days. Didn't help though, that it felt like a jackhammer was pounding the inside of her skull. She thought back to last night, thinking that she might have had too much wine.

Pulling up to the curb, Detective Kate Beckett put her car into park and then killed the engine. She kept her hands on the wheel, not sure if she was completely ready for this. Sure, she had known this was coming, but it just seemed so sudden. Captain Blye had been talking to her about it for weeks now, informing her that it was now precinct policy, and after some pressure, she had reluctantly gave in.

Letting out a long breath, Beckett unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door, her game face on. Swinging her heels out, her feet met the asphalt as she stood up and slammed the car door shut behind her, taking a slow march over to where the uniforms had blocked the area off with the yellow crime scene tape.

She narrowed her eyes, and waited for the sound of Castle hastily getting out of the car to follow her, but it did not come. Stopping short, she paused and mentally kicked herself, having to remind herself that he wasn't there.  _He_  hadn't been there for three months, yet she was still coming to grips with that. At first, having him as her constant shadow had been annoying, but she had gotten used to it, had come to even depend on it. Now, she almost felt incomplete without it. Without him. It was like still feeling the sensations of a limb after it had been amputated.

The metaphor seemed grimly apropos to her.

The last few months had not been easy for her, withdrawing from his life, slowly removing herself. She'd spent many nights alone, curled up in her bed, simply crying over it. Her friend had noticed. Lanie had tried to help, like talking with her last night, but even she did not fully understand. No one understood. No one could.

She frowned.

That damn bullet. Everything always seemed to come back to that bullet. That day. God, if that bullet had been a person, Beckett would have throttled it by now with all the frustration and torment it had cause. The shooter behind it was still at large, having been lost in the wind, along with all leads to the spider that controlled the web surrounding her mother's murder. The drain had gone dry with Montgomery's death. Anything she could have learned went with him to his grave.

Beckett could still vividly remember those days and hours in the hospital, sitting and waiting for news, then just sitting and keeping a vigil as Castle regained consciousness and began the long road back to recovery. She was worried about him. She had not seen him since he had been discharged from the hospital and Alexis had convinced him to take up his convalescence in the Hamptons. Alexis. Bless her. Though she had been baffled by Kate's request, she had still honored it, recognizing her own need to protect her father.

It had felt wrong to use Castle's own daughter against him, but she had needed him gone, away from danger, so that she could work out what to do. In the meantime, Beckett had Captain William Blye to deal with. He was much more by the book than Montgomery, and not as flexible with rules. She remembered her first meeting with him, just after she had been forced to end her vigil over Castle's bedside at the hospital.

" _Look, Detective," Bill Blye said, sitting behind Montgomery's desk. It was surreal to see someone else sitting there. "I know your reputation. You're a tough cop… a_ _great detective. Roy called you the best. And you are. But this is my house now, and I'm not going to have some pulp fiction mystery writer tagging along and interfering with cases."_

" _Sir? I know Castle can be a bit unorthodox at times, but he's been a big help around here," she defended him. She didn't know why she did, considering she had all but told him they were through and over. But part of Beckett felt like she just had to defend him. She loved him. How could she not defend him? Especially when he really had been an asset to the precinct—even Montgomery had seen that._

_But no. She had to keep him away. It had all been part of the plan, to get him away from her, away from the flame. Being around her was dangerous. And she could not handle it again if he was caught between her and the devil. If something were to happen to him… God she didn't know what she'd do. Hell… she'd hardly been able to handle it the first time._

" _I know, Detective," Blye replied with a nod of his head, his voice a little softer, some of the hard edge diminishing for a second. "It has been good for PR. But 1PP has grown wary of having an untrained civilian 'consultant' following around one of the city's best homicide detectives. It is time you get a real partner. One who is trained and can have your back."_

" _But sir… Castle—"_

" _Yeah, I know, the man took a bullet for you," Blye interrupted, almost callously. "But why? What possesses a man to do such a thing?""_

_He let the question hang there in the air for a moment, before answering it himself._

" _I cannot allow personal feelings to compromise my investigative squads, Detective," the captain declared. "So... no, the writer's not coming back. Even if he's got connections up at City Hall." He shrugged. "Besides, it's an election year, his connections might not be there much longer."_

And that had been Beckett's first meeting with her new captain. She didn't know why she had fought against kicking Castle out of the precinct, since that was her goal, but it still did not lessen the hurt of actually doing it. Despite not being a trained or sworn police officer, Castle had been part of the family, a member of the team. He was more than a ride-along gathering research for his books, he was her partner… her friend—maybe even more, if she could straighten out some things first.

A month had past before Beckett heard anything about him. A frightened Alexis had called her during the middle of the night, telling her that Castle was having panic attack, and trouble breathing. Beckett had wanted to drop everything and go to him, to help him regain control… but she couldn't. Not to him. Not when she was not ready.  _They_  were not ready. It was not the right time yet. She needed to maintain her distance to protect him. She had already lost her mother and Montgomery to this case. She was not going to lose him as well.

What further tormented and ate at her was when Alexis informed her that upon some careful questioning, the teen had found out that Castle's memory was still fuzzy about the details of his week in the hospital. He was unsure of what had been real and what had been imagined. Alexis, poor thing, didn't know what to tell him. Beckett was worried he didn't believe her sincere and honest admission about her feelings. She had told him before she left. That she cared about.

But, from what Beckett was hearing from Alexis it sounded like Castle had interpreted that to mean she cared for him as a friend. She had wanted… desperately wanted… to tell him that she loved him too, but thought better of it, reasoning that it would be easier, on both them, if she still held that fact close to the vest. Though she did worried that he thought she might still be with Josh. She had caught glimpses of his face during the rare occasions Josh would come by the precinct, so she knew—she really did—how much it had pained him to see her with the cardiac surgeon.

Yet despite all that, Beckett decided to let Castle believe whatever it was that he believed. If he thought she was still seeing Josh, then so be it. It… it would be easier to keep him away that way. To keep him safe.

Though tonight… tonight was going to be difficult. Reps from Black Pawn had called and invited her to the launch party of  _Heat Rises_. She had unilaterally declined, but word had already gotten to the higher ups in the department, and the PR machine worked in overtime, and soon Captain Blye was calling her to his office and practically ordering her to attend.

"The brass wants some good PR, Beckett," Blye had grumbled, looking like he was against the whole idea. "Look, you don't have to enjoy yourself, just go, look nice, and smile for the cameras."

Beckett frowned as she ducked under the yellow tape as the uniform held it up for her. She was going to go to the book launch. She had to, not just because of the brass from downtown salivating for good press, but because she owed it to Castle to make an appearance.

Sighing, she narrowed her eyes, and tried to stifle all her thoughts and feelings. This was not the place to be worrying over her personal issues. Some unfortunate soul had been murdered, and it was her job to find out who… and why. She would give closure to this family, even if she could not get closure herself.


	5. Chapter 5

CSU were still on the scene, snapping photos when Beckett walked up. Lanie was crouched by the body, already beginning her cursory examination, as were Ryan and Esposito… not to mention the new guy—Henry "Hank" Connors,  _her_  partner. Beckett closed her eyes for a moment. She had never had a partner since she had been promoted to lead detective when Holloway retired, at least not until Castle started following her around. She had finally gotten used to the idea when that sniper had taken a shot at her and Castle had taken the bullet in her place.

Now, here she was, three months later, having been assigned a partner by Captain Blye. And since she been called in to help work this case, seeing as they were short-handed do to budget cuts, this would be her first case working with Connors. She wasn't really looking forward to it. Not that she had anything against Connors—she was sure he was a fine detective and all—but allowing this change to happen almost felt like admitting that Castle was never going to come back, that his absence in her life was, therefore, permanent.

Sighing, she shifted her weight on her high heels and plowed ahead, striding past  _her_  partner, giving him a slight nod of her head in recognition of his presence, but not much less than that. There was no coffee waiting for her, no smirks or inappropriate comments. Not this time. Beckett stopped alongside Lanie and looked down, reaching into her coat to bring out her notepad.

Lanie glanced up and raised her eyebrows, surprised to see her.

"Kate! What are you doing here?" she asked. "I thought you had the next two days off."

"The department is understaffed, Lanie," Beckett replied. "Captain called me in to help out."

The M.E. gave a shrug and then turned back to the body, continuing her examination. Beckett took a quick breath and then turned her gaze up to met Ryan, narrowing her eyes when she caught the look passing between the boys. "What we got?" she asked, moving over to them and leaving Lanie to her work.

"Our vic is Peter Beynon," Ryan read off from his notepad. "According to his driver's license, age 50, lists his address uptown. Probably a penthouse."

"This guy's a long way form home," Esposito interjected, looking around the dank and dark alley they were standing, located behind some sleazy erotica store.

"Not to mention bad taste in places to shop," Ryan quipped back, indicating the store with a jerk of his head.

"Guys!" Beckett snapped sharply, getting hurt looks from the peanut gallery. She knew they were trying to make up for the lack of Castle's charming wit, but it wasn't the same. Taking a slow and methodical breath to ease her fried nerves, Beckett stepped back over to stand behind Lanie. "You got anything for me yet, Lanie?"

"Well, I think the C.O.D. is rather obvious," Lanie spoke up, gesturing to the bullet-size hole in the man's skull. "Judging by the location, and the way the body fell, I'm saying homicide… oh, yeah, most definitely not self-inflicted."

Connors narrowed his eyes and stepped back a bit, angling his head to look down at the body. He looked back over his shoulder and then back at the body. He wore his blond hair in a military-style crew cut, and Beckett remembered being informed by the captain that Hank Connors had recently returned from a couple of tours of duty overseas in Iraq. He'd been back in the States for over a year now, and had been working out of the 20th until Blye had decided she needed a trained partner and had requested a transfer with 1PP.

Esposito squinted his eyes and exchanged a sideway glance with Ryan, hwo nodded in agreement. Beckett gave them a pointed look.

"You two care to share with the rest of the class?" Beckett asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Nada."

"No."

"Connors? You got something?" she asked.

Hank glanced up, like he had come out of some sort of trance. He was a couple of years older than her, and hadn't worked his way up the ladder like she had, becoming a detective almost straight-away after his return. She held no grudges for that, seeing as she had rose up rather quickly. There had been some who thought her quick accession was because she was a woman, and 1PP had felt some political pressure to have more female homicide detectives.

And when she had initially gotten her promotion, Montgomery had assured her that it was because of merit, and nothing more. So, she was giving Hank Connors the benefit of the doubt, and assuming that just like her, he had been promptly promoted to detective based on merit and experience. She had little doubt that he had gained both overseas.

"I know this isn't… but, I just can't help but see some similarities," he said, his voice unsettlingly calm and cool, like he'd seen far worse. Probably had since he'd been over in Iraq. Hank stepped back over to them and gestured to the headshot. "Shot to the head like this… that's standard execution style, if you ask me."

"Execution?" Ryan questioned, taking another look.

"Yeah," Hank nodded. "Look at the wet stains on his knees, and the ground… it's still wet. He was on his knees. And the location of the headshot… consistent with a street-style execution."

"And you saw a lot of that over there?" Ryan asked, raising his eyebrows skeptically.

"Sectarian violence, man," Hank said, shaking his head. "We were right dab in the middle of it. Things like this… happened all the time."

Ryan glanced at Esposito, who nodded in agreement. During his tour of duty with the Marines, Esposito had seen some action over in that part of the world as well, and was the only one out of the three of them who could confirm Hank's assertion. Beckett had noticed it before, how Esposito was more welcoming of Hank Connors. She figured it was a Marine thing…  _Semper Fi_.

"Lanie?" Beckett asked, having listened to it all, and wanting her friend's professional medical opinion.

"I'd say that's a pretty good guess, yes," the M.E. said, "especially with how his hands had tied behind his back."

Beckett crouched down to have a look as Lanie shifted the body. There was bruises around the man's wrists that were consistent with having been bound. She nodded and made a note in her notepad.

"I'll know more once I get him into autopsy," Lanie informed her. "But I'm ruling my initiation C.O.D. as a GSW to the head."

"Anything on time of death?"

"Judging from liver temp, I'm saying between midnight and 3 A.M.," Lanie said after thinking for a moment. "Again, I might be able to narrow that down after I do the autopsy."

"Okay," Beckett replied with a nod, writing down the times in her notepad. She turned back to Ryan and Esposito, and handed out assignments. She turned to go back to her car when she remembered Hank.

She turned and saw him standing there.

"Sorry… I kind of forgot you there," she said, trying to give him an apologetic smile.

"No prob, Beckett," he replied with a incline of his head. "So I take it, we're going to check up on his home residence?"

Beckett nodded. "Yeah, I'll drive."

Hank gave a nod and flipped his notepad shut and put it in his coat pocket. Beckett turned to leave when Lanie stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Just one more minute, sweetie, I need to talk to you," she said.

Beckett inclined her head to indicated for Hank to go on, and he did, leaving the two women alone. Lanie watched as the new guy ducked under the yellow tape and headed over towards Beckett's Crown Vic.

"You okay with this, girl?" Lanie asked, softly.

"Huh?" Beckett was in sort of a daze.

"Having a partner assigned to you?"

"Oh, it… it's nothing," she shrugged it off with a shake of her head.

"Kate, it's not nothing," Lanie gave her a glare that matched any Beckett had in her arsenal. "What about Castle?"

Beckett let out a quick breath and prayed that her eyes were not betraying her because damn did they feel watery. "He's gone, Lanie," she said, her traitorous voice betraying her with a waver. "He's not my partner, he never was. He… he was just a research ride-along, okay. And he's not coming back."

Lanie knitted her eyebrows together, clearly not buying any of it. "That's not true and you know it," she said. "And where is this coming from? Please don't tell me your tossing away all of last night. That was a big step for you."

"Lanie… please," Beckett pleaded, trying to put a lid on her emotions. She sighed and closed her eyes for a second. "Look, I'm dealing with it, okay. And yes, you're right. He… he was my partner. But he's not now. I'm just trying to protect myself."

Her friend let out a disappointed sigh. "Just remember what we talked about last night, Kate, you can't hide away from your feelings forever, besides, aren't you going to the launch party tonight?"

"On orders, yes," Beckett said, trying to keep her voice neutral.

"Aren't you the least bit excited about seeing him again?" Lanie questioned. "I mean, it has been three months?"

"Lanie… I… I just… can we not do this here?" Beckett stammered out, feeling her heart seized up with thoughts of Castle chumming it up with some blonde bimbo and happily signing chests with that adorable smirk on his face.

Lanie let out a defeated sigh and gave a sad nod. "Alright, girl, but you call me, okay? If you need to talk, like last night, you call me, anytime of the day. You hear me?"

Beckett gave a crisp nod, and a weak smile, then turned and walked back to her Crown Vic and her waiting partner.

XXX

Amanda Beynon, the vic's wife, was clearly not afraid of going under the knife to make herself look more and more like a Barbie doll. Beckett tried to hide her disgust over the woman's obvious attempts at retaining her youth, but was unsure if she had succeed, judging by the woman's demeanor.

Hank got more out of her than Beckett did, but even that was forced. Either Mrs. Beynon's extensive surgeries had robbed her of her tear ducts or she very clearly had no grief or sorrow over the news that her husband had been killed. With the Botox hardened facial skin, it was equally difficult to tell whether Mrs. Beynon was surprised about the news or not.

"Peter was into real estate," she informed them.

"Who was he in business with?" Hank asked.

"Timothy Greene," Amanda said. "Peter and him go way back, before I married Peter."

"And what sort of real estate did your husband deal with?" Beckett questioned. "Any bad deals, any angry clients, buyers or sellers? Anything that could shed some light onto who might have wanted him dead?"

"No… not that I can think of," Amanda said. "Look, granted… Peter and I weren't really seeing that much of each other lately. Our marriage, whatever it was, has never really been physical, if you know what I mean, for  _years_."

Hank jumped on that before Beckett could, especially considering the location in which they had found Beynon's body. "Did you suspect him of having an affair?" he asked, looking apologetic for asking it.

"Peter… god no, he's not the type," Amanda laughed. "If there was anything he loved more than me it was his work."

"Workaholic?" Hank asked.

"You could say that, yes," Amanda nodded.

Beckett made a mental note to check on that. There were plenty of wives who never suspected their husband's of having affairs. And many affairs had been covered up as late nights at the office.

"Look, I'll come right out and say it," Amanda said, pulling Beckett out of her thoughts. "I've been seeing someone."

"Really?" Beckett raised an eyebrow, surprised by the admission.

"I have nothing to hide," Amanda briskly declared, crossing her arms over her lap as she straightened her back, sitting on the edge of the couch. "There was no love left, and heaven knows Peter wasn't interested in me anymore. So… I sought my needs elsewhere."

"Do you mind telling us with whom?" Beckett asked, readying her pencil to write down the name, though she doubted it would be that easy.

"That I cannot," Amanda said, giving them an apologetic look with her eyes, since she really couldn't move her facial muscles.

"Let me guess, he's married?"

Amanda gave Beckett a knowing look like Beckett knew exactly what she was talking about. To tell the truth, the detective was a little offended that the woman thought that they were anything alike.

"Right… um… I'm sorry, but we have to ask this," Beckett said, ignoring it. "Where were you between midnight and three this morning?"

"With my lover," Amanda answered, very forthcoming, with no shred of guilt or shame over having cheated on her now deceased husband.

"Here?"

"God no," Amanda laughed, though her laugh was kind of awkward. "We met at the Plaza, and I stayed the night with him." The woman suddenly reached out and grabbed Beckett's hand. "Just ask the concierge, Jean-Paul, he saw us… there… there's no reason you need to bring  _him_ into this."

Beckett merely gave a nod, though she had every intention of looking into this mysterious lover. Even though the Beynon's marriage was clearly over, a secret affair was still a motive, and she needed to check every angle. Plus she kind of wanted to met that man that actually found this plastic Barbie doll attractive enough to have an affair with her. After a few more questions, Hank and her thanked Mrs. Benyon for her time, and then left.

Once in the elevator, heading down to the lobby, Beckett raised her wrist and glanced at her father's watch, letting out a groan as she noticed the time. She was going to have to cut the evening short, the book launch started at eight and it was already six thirty, and it would take them at least an hour to get back to the precinct.

"Look, Connors, I'm sorry to do this to you," she said, looking apologetic, especially since it was their first day working together, "but I've gotta take off early—"

"Don't worry about me, Beckett," Hank said, giving her an astute grin. "You've got that big PR thing to go to, right?"

She nodded, a little caught off guard that he was aware of this. "Yes."

"I'll hop on over to the Plaza and check with this Jean-Paul fellow, see if Mrs. Beynon's alibi holds up," he said. "And then I'll see if I can find anything out about this mysterious lover of hers."

Beckett smirked. Perhaps having a partner wasn't going to be as bad as she had thought. "Thanks, Connors."

"No prob," he inclined his head and placing a quick smile. "And you can call me, Hank."

She nodded. "Kate."


	6. Chapter 6

The green room was located adjacent to the main ballroom where the launch party was being held. Castle, Alexis, and Martha had arrived less than an hour ago, having forgone the traditional over the top Castle-style entrance that he had always been quite famous for. So, as soon as they arrived, security met them at the side entrance and they were ushered through until they were safely in the green room. Castle always found it amusing that green rooms never really were… well, green. This one was white… no… a pale yellow. The floor was covered in a red carpet with intricate patterns swirling through the solid base color.

Paula had told the press, who had been eager to get photos of the now reclusive author, that the decision had been made in respect for the trauma he had gone through. He wasn't actually completely healed yet, physically or emotionally, and his close circle of family and friends were doing their best to protect him.

The low thump of the music and the din of the crowd could be heard through the walls, and his mother had already left to mix and mingle. His ex-wife/editor was currently pacing back and forth as he slumped back in the cushion chair, which, oddly enough, was green. A deep emerald green.  _Green_ … his mind went off on a tangent. Suddenly he was calling up images of brilliant hazel-green eyes that would light up and sparkle whenever he had managed to coax a smile or small yet restrained chuckle out of  _her_.

"Richard… you… you look ridiculous," Gina frowned, stopping front of him, her declaration pulling him out of his thoughts.

Shifting in the chair, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, Castle slowly heaved himself up and stood before his ex-wife, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

Gina let out an exacerbated growl, as if her criticism should be obvious to him. "You should have shaved that… that  _thing_ … off your face," she gestured absurdly towards his chin and jaw, her brow creasing into a more severe frown.

"He thinks it makes him look more rugged," Paula informed Gina, sounding slightly flustered, and checking her wristwatch. He wasn't going to be making his usual manner of entrance. They had planned a short introduction, coinciding with the unveiling of the cover and some of the potential concept artwork for the next books in the series.

"Well, at least you took the time to trim it," Gina shook her head and placed a hand on his shoulder, absently reached over to smooth out his lapels. "Richard, just… just  _please_ , promise me you won't completely embarrass yourself tonight, alright?" She gave him a tight smile.

Castle looked at her with a bemused expression. "Since when do you care about that? I thought it always helped for publicity when I  _embarrassed_  myself." He chuckled softly, but stopped when he saw the look on her face. His expression dropped and a sort of intense dread began to crawl over him.

" _She_  is going to be here," Gina informed him after taking a hissing breath. She genuinely sounded concerned. And there was no need for her to elaborate. Castle knew very well who _she_  was.

Suddenly his throat seized up and he had trouble breathing. Both Paula and Gina noticed his expression, or lack there of, but it was only Alexis whom knew how to act. After all, she had seen her father go into these panic attacks before at just the mere mention of the woman in question. And only Alexis knew that all the hurt and pain her father felt over Beckett's absence and distance was necessary, part of a plan that the detective and her had conceived to keep him safe.

He blinked, not knowing what was happening, and forgetting where he was. His chest was heaving and it felt like something was clenching his heart. It beat, powerfully against his ribcage, like it was trying to burst out and escape from his chest. He vaguely recalled that scene from the  _Alien_ , when the small alien burst out of that man's middle, snarling and snapping, blood all over the place. He could feel Alexis besides him, taking hold of his arms and moving him back to the chair, guiding him into a sitting position.

God, his chest… it… it hurt  _so_  much, like it was on fire. Not just where he had been shot, but his heart, itself, ached as well. It was hard enough doing this, looking at the cover art depicting Nikki Heat, the character that  _she_  had inspired, without also having to actually face _her_  as well.

Why? Why would  _she_  do this to him?  _She_  didn't want him.  _She_  didn't need him.  _She_  had all but told him not to come back, to stay away, and to leave her alone. Yet now, here  _she_  was, coming to the launch party… hell, she might already be here, in the ballroom, mingling with the other guests, her arm draped around her date… he shuddered. God, he hoped she hadn't brought Motorcycle Boy… that… that would just be cruel. And he'd never pegged her as a cruel woman.

"Dad, here… drink," it was Alexis instructing him, holding up a water bottle to his lips.

He opened his mouth and obeyed, allowing her to tip the bottle back as he took a long drink of the water and swallowed, allowing the coolness of the liquid to flow through his body. He closed his eyes, and heaved in a deep breath, calming his raging heart. Slowly, with Alexis by his side, reassuringly rubbing his shoulders and back, he returned.

Opening his eyes, he glanced up to see the concerned and stunned faces of his publicist and publisher/editor. This was the first time that either Paula or Gina had seen one of his panic attacks. They both looked extremely worried.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," Paula broke the awkwardly long silence that had descended on the group. Gina gave a slight nod in agreement as the two women exchanged a glance.

"No," Castle asserted, letting out a gasp of air and shaking his head. He gave Alexis a nod and tight grin, thanking for her quick thinking. She sighed, but still smiled back at him, and continued to rub his back as he sat still. "I… I want to do this. I  _need_  to do this." He stressed his words, needing—willing—them to understand.

"Alright, Richard," Gina relented in a soft voice, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and giving him a tender squeeze. It was odd to see her so understanding and concerned. She'd always been… well, different. This was like seeing the polar opposite. He almost asked her, 'who are you, and what have you done with Gina?', but bit his tongue.

"Who invited her?" Alexis asked the question he had wanted to ask.

Gina looked at Paula. "I… I think it was the guys in advertising," she said, seeing Paula nod. "They thought it would be good for the publicity. You know, having the real Nikki Heat in attendance."

Paula stepped forward. "Rick, if you want… I can go out and ask if she'll—"

He raised a hand and waved it about, dismissing the idea, knowing what she was going to suggest. Even though it would probably make it easier on him if  _she_  weren't here, Castle could not have them throw her out of the party. He loved her. He would always love  _her_. Always.

"The launch party goes on as planned… I'll… I'll deal with it," he reached out and grabbed Alexis's hand, clenching on tightly for something to ground him and keep him fixed. She gave him a weak, but encouraging smile, and squeezed back.

XXX

The normally reserved Detective Kate Beckett felt uncomfortable, and out of place, as she walked down the red carpet at the entrance of the swank and chic hotel. The press and paparazzi were present, and the lights immediately began to flash when her first Stiletto touched down. The velvet ropes kept that press back, but it did not hinder their zeal or determination in capturing a rare photo of the NYPD homicide detective who inspired Richard Castle to write Nikki Heat.

The paparazzi were the worst. They didn't even call out to her by her real name, instead calling her 'Nikki' or 'Detective Heat'. She tried to smile and be polite, at least look like she was happy to be there, but she knew her eyes told the truth. This whole night was going to be a struggle, especially when she finally saw Castle again. And knowing the need for publicity and good PR, she was highly certain that she might even be asked to pose for some pictures with him.

It terrified her. But for once, it wasn't the idea of being photographed by the crazed paparazzi. It was the awkward and tense reunion she was afraid of. She had to try really hard to not worry her bottom lip. Instead, using all her will power, Kate stretched her mouth out wide in a feigned enthusiastic smile that the paparazzi ate up. She walked gracefully down the red carpet, pausing at some points, when someone got her name right, and giving them a pose, falling back on what she remembered from her admittedly brief foray into the world of modeling when she was much younger.

After leaving the Benyon's penthouse, and Hank to the task of hunting down alibis and leads, Kate had went back to her apartment and agonized over what to wear. She took a quick shower, that turned into a much longer one when her thoughts wandered towards Castle, imagining how it would be if he joined her under the hot spray of water. It was not until the water turned cold that she realized how lost in her thoughts she had become.

Ultimately, she settled on wearing a strapless red dress with gold details running throughout its length. It was the very same dress that Castle had bought for her when they went undercover at that charity event back during their first year working together. She remembered so much about that evening. Castle had completely surprised her, actually taking the undercover work seriously. Though he did manage to get her on the dance floor. She might have acted annoyed and irritated with his move, but secretly she had enjoyed it.

But mainly, she remembered the look on Castle's face when he first saw her in that dress. The way his jaw simply went slack, and the way his eyes grew wide and grew just a hint darker, had informed her that he had greatly approved of how it hugged her curves.

She had struggled with what to do with her hair, since it was longer now than it had been then. In the end, she wore her hair in a stylist updo, similar to the way she'd seen on some actresses during movie premieres.

Yet, despite her calm and sure steps down the red carpet and into the lobby of the luxurious hotel, Kate's heart was pounding profoundly within her chest. The brass at 1PP had misunderstood her reluctance at attending the launch party, thinking she was just nervous about the publicity involved. But what really had her all anxious and wound as tight as a drum was seeing Castle again. God… she loved him  _so_  much, and it equally hurt her to such a depth within, knowing the heartache she had put him through during the summer by distancing herself.

Despite all that hurt, pain, and anguish, Kate still wanted to impress him, to see that slack jaw expression, and maybe, just maybe, still see that desire burn in his eyes when he looked at her. It pained her, because she knew that she had never really needed a dress for that. But that was before. She had no idea how these past three months apart might have affected him emotionally. Alexis had called, yes, informing her of his panic attacks. The teen had began to question their strategy, and frankly, so was she.

Kate had literally been reduced to tears during those conversations, yet she had to keep her resolve, doggedly determined to see this out to its end, even if doing so destroyed the one tangible relationship that had kept her sane throughout the last three years. Regardless of all her resistance and denials, Rick Castle had truly become her partner, in all meanings of that word. God… she missed him  _so_  much.

Shaking her head, clearing her mind, Kate walked through the lobby, searching for the PR rep from the department that Captain Blye told her would meet her there. After a moment of worry and confusion, Kate spotted him, and his counterpart from Black Pawn. Walking over, she felt her chest tighten as she finally realized how close she was to seeing Castle again. She knitted her eyes together and tried to focus on the task at hand, no matter her personal feelings. She was here for the good PR for the NYPD, not for Castle. That was a lie, and she knew it, but she told herself it anyways.

The Black Pawn rep smiled at her, and then directed her towards the opened double doors that led into the ballroom.

Kate ducked her head and stepped inside, pausing to glance up and take it all in. Her eyes went wide. Black Pawn had outdone themselves. That much was certain. The ballroom looked amazing, themed perfectly to match the latest addition of the Nikki Heat series, with faux snow fringing the edges of the walls and long banners hanging down like tapestries, depicting the cover art from all three books—minus the text.

At the far end of the ballroom was a stage, behind which was a wall-sized portrait of the author himself, reminiscent of  _Citizen Kane_. The portrait was framed by red and black bunting, and matching curtains draped around it. The image itself was very flattering of Castle. It presented him with a healthy glow, as he teased the camera with a playful smirk and a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes.

She stared at the image for a while, wondering if he still had that sparkle in his eyes, or if all the light had faded out when she had all but abandoned him and crushed his hopes and dreams, breaking his heart. She hoped he wasn't completely broken. She never wanted to hurt him, but it had been necessary. Terribly necessary.

Kate closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. Taking a deep breath, regaining some of her composure, she put on a fake smile and began to mingle with the other guests, praying she didn't bump into anyone she knew.

XXX

He could literally feel all their eyes on him as he took a deep breath.

"I'm fine," Castle tried to assure the women, but none of them looked convinced, especially his daughter.

Alexis gave him a very stern look and crossed her arms over her chest. "Dad, if you don't want to do this, just tell us, okay?" she said. Sometimes he was unsure who was the parent, her or him.

He gave her a weak smile. "I appreciate the concern, from all of you," he extended his response to everyone. "But I have to do this, okay. Just… just think of it as another step in my recovery. Richard Castle needs to make his return, and what better time than the release of his latest, soon-to-be, bestseller!" By the end Castle had managed to coax that famous charming smile onto his face.

Gina was the first to cave, like he knew she would. She gave a sigh and nodded. "I'll get things set up then."

She slipped out of the room and Castle turned to Alexis and gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm alright, Pumpkin," he rubbed her arm. "Now go out there and make sure your grandmother isn't on the prowl for the next ex-Mr. Rodgers."

That got a smile out of Alexis, and she stepped out, closing the door softly behind her, leaving Castle alone with Paula. His agent and publicist was perhaps one of his oldest friends. He'd known her longer than anyone else in his life, saved for his mother.

"You really sure about this, Rick?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she looked at him. If anyone could read him, it would be her. "You're not just trying to put on a brave front for Gina or Alexis?"

"I'm sure, Paula," Castle asserted, his voice actually sounding confident despite the trepidation in his gut. "I  _need_  this."

She gave a brisk nod. "Alright, but I hold the right to end it if I think you can't handle it, okay?"

"Fine," he grumbled, turning around to the mirror on the wall, running his fingers through his hair to make sure it looked good.

He grabbed a pair of sunglasses, very stylish ones that he'd bought on a whim during one of the few times he crawled out of his room in the Hamptons and went shopping at the local upscale boutiques. He looked at them for a moment, his eyes narrowing as his mind was flooded with memories of long nights curled up in the fetal position and crying himself to sleep.

Sighing, he looked back up at his reflection. Yep. He definitely needed these sunglasses to hide the dark circles and tired lines around his eyes. They just weren't alive like they used to be, and he didn't want the happy people out there to know that. He slowly put them on and stared at himself, trying to pull out the persona that he had always been known for. He had outgrown it, but it was needed for tonight. He needed something to mask his inner pain.

"You ready?" Paula asked, glancing down at her iPhone and a text from Gina.

"Ready," he confirmed with a nod.


	7. Chapter 7

Kate was chatting absently with some civic employee. He was some mid-level bureaucrat, but he was quite nice to look at, and right now, she needed something, even if his personality was dull and boring. As he droned on about filing systems or memoranda—really, she couldn't care less—her eyes glanced over his shoulder, and she immediately fought the urge to panic.

Just twenty yards away from her was none other than Martha Rodgers. The Broadway diva was slowly making her way through the crowd, talking and laughing with the attendees. The last thing Kate wanted was to explain to Martha why she had distanced herself from the woman's only son. It had been on Alexis's recommendation that they leave Castle's mother out of their plan, and Kate wasn't about to do it now.

She turned back to the handsome mid-level bureaucrat and made a quick, but polite excuse before making her escape.

Kate meandered through the throng of people, trying to distance herself from Martha. She arched her neck and risked a glance back, letting out a sigh of relief when it appeared her retreat had worked. She had managed to escape notice, at least for the moment. The rapid beating in her chest slowed as she willed herself to calm down.

A server walked past, holding a tray of champagne flutes, and Kate snatched one up and drowned the entire glass in one long throwback. The server raised his eyebrows as she grabbed his arm and pulled him back, depositing her now empty flute and grabbing another. After giving her a strange look, the server turned and continued on. Kate took a deep breath and raised the flute of champagne to her lips to take a quick sip.

She tried to mingle again, not really that into it. Off to her right she spotted the Mayor chatting with a man with a silver mane of hair, a witty smile, charm and charisma practically flowing off him. She thought she recognized him from somewhere, but at present she couldn't place it.

Changing directions, Kate veered left and stepped around a group of bubbly blonde bimbos. They were all giggling and whispering amongst themselves like they had managed to sneak into some high society ball. Despite herself, she could not help but look them over. Not that she was suspicious or anything, just… they were a very chesty bunch, and weren't really trying to hide it. One was practically falling out of her dress. Kate couldn't help but cast a sneering glance as she walked around them, hating how she felt a tinge of envy at the ample cleavage that was being displayed by the chattering blondes.

It's not like she was flat, but she wasn't big either. Anyways, it didn't matter, really. Judging by some of the lingering gazes she'd caught out of the corner of her eye, Castle seemed perfectly fine with the size of her—She brought her train of thought to a halt, completely baffled over why she was actually devoting time into thinking about such a superficial aspect of who she was. Besides, she had far more to offer than any of those blonde busty bimbos. She had it where it counted.

Frowning, still rather perplexed at her own thinking, Kate turned away only to be stopped dead in her tracks.

"Alexis!"

The redhead teen was staring at her with big round crystal blue eyes. Her lips parted, as if she was going to say something, but then they closed and Alexis shook her head, blinking like she had seen a ghost.

"Kate," the teen managed to squeak out. "I… I knew you were going to be here, I… I just—"

"I understand," she interjected, crossing the final distance between them and placing a hand on the teen's shoulder. It was good to see a friendly face, even if Alexis wasn't all that cheery. "To tell the truth, I really wasn't planning on coming, but," she sighed, "the brass saw this as an opportunity for some good PR."

"Oh," Alexis averted her eyes, hanging her head down for a second, and rubbing her bare arms in a sad little self-hug. Kate dropped her hand and looked down, noticing that Alexis was wearing a lovely turquoise blue dress that did exceedingly well at showing off how much the teen had grown into a beautiful young woman. "So… you were  _ordered_  to attend, then?"

"In a manner, yes," Kate tilted her head slightly, and lowered her voice. "But if I was being honest with myself, I really wouldn't miss this. Even if it's going to be difficult. So… I guess I'm really here to support your dad."

Alexis pursed her lips and gave a meek nod. "It's been hard on him, Kate," she said. "He really misses you."

"I know," Kate murmured, shutting her eyes against the build up of tears. "It's hard for me, too."

There was a lull in their conversation, before Alexis let out a frustrated breath and grabbed Kate's arm, pulling her through the crush of people until they were in a secluded part of the hall. The teen turned on her, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"It's not working, Kate," Alexis choked out in a heartbreaking sob. "I know we're doing this to keep him safe, so that what happened last May doesn't happen again, but… it… it just isn't working like we thought it would."

"He's alive," Kate somberly replied. "So it  _is_  working."

"No, it's not," Alexis shook her head. "You haven't seen him. Haven't been around him. He may be alive, but Kate… he's not  _living_. It's like he's dead inside. And… and…" her voice trailed off as she looked away, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes.

"What?" Kate questioned, sensing something. "What is it?"

"Just now, in the green room, when he found out you were going to be here," Alexis explained. "Dad… he… well, um… he had a panic attack."

Kate's heart clenched in her chest and she fought against the tears that wanted to come. She breathed in shakily and her shoulders sagged. She felt terrible that his reaction to hearing she'd be attending the party was to have a panic attack. That's not what she wanted. Not at all. He was supposed to be excited and happy, not torn down and miserable. She closed her eyes and took in a slow breath before forcing herself to look at Alexis.

"I thought he'd gotten better since you guys got back from the Hamptons," she spoke barely above a whisper.

"He had, yes," Alexis inclined her head, but then went on, "but ever since he finished writing  _Heat Rises_ , he's become… I don't know… sad? He just mopes about the house. If he could, he'd drink, but Grams and I hid all the alcohol." She sighed and bit her lower lip before continuing. "Most of the time he just ends up sitting in his desk, staring at a blank screen. He says he's plotting out the next Nikki Heat book, but I don't know… did you get the advance copy I sent?"

Kate nodded. "Yeah."

It was Kate's turn to sigh. She felt a little guilty that she'd allowed the package to go unopened for as long as she had. Normally she would have torn the packaging and read the book straight away, but once she saw the return address, Kate couldn't bring herself to do it. Part of her had felt that once she read it, it would be the end. The final chapter of that part of her life, where she'd been the inspiration and muse to one of her favorite authors, was over. So, yes, she delayed. She'd only read it last night, and that was solely because of the man himself. Kate could not face him having not read the book.

"Did… did you read it?"

"Yes, last night," she admitted, wincing slightly at how terrible that sounded, like she had waited until the last minute, as if it was something that had to be forced to get down.

Alexis's eyebrows rose and she genuinely looked shocked. "Oh… I… um… okay?" she frowned. "So, the ending…"

"I noticed, yes," Kate nodded. "Was that how it was originally going to be?"

"No," Alexis informed her.

"What was it that he changed?" Kate asked, wanting to know if it was what she had suspected.

The teen opened her mouth to respond, but then stopped, frowning and glancing around Kate's shoulder.

Turning her head, Kate looked out and noticed that the music had stopped and that the crowd was gathering around the stage. A spotlight came on and she squinted. A familiar blonde was standing behind a podium, beginning the introduction.

"He'll be coming out soon," Alexis said, glancing back at Kate, her eyes wide and anxious. "I don't know. Could… could you maybe stand at the back of the crowd… so… so he doesn't see you."

Kate bit her lower lip, suppressing the hurt at being asked to stand so far back, but nodded, saying that she would.  _No problem_. She'd do anything for this girl. Alexis gave her a tight smile, thanking her. The two exchanged a quick hug, and then Kate watched as the young redhead hurriedly walked away, heading towards the stage so that she could be present to support her father.

Closing her eyes, and pinching the bridge of her nose, Kate let out a heavy sigh, thick with raw emotion. Her shoulders were tense, and she felt the burden of faking the cheery disposition she'd been forced to wear since she stepped out of the cab and down the red carpet. Composing herself, Kate inhaled deeply and spun around to find a spot in the back of the gathered crowd that would both hide her from Castle's eyes, yet give herself an unobstructed view of the man she loved.

Gina was just finishing her introduction. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, the man of the hour, the master of the macabre… Richard Castle!"

Almost all the lights blinked out, except for the spotlight. The opening rifts of  _Back In Black_ by AC/DC drifted out from the speakers, and the crowd seemed to bustle with excitement. One of the black curtains flew open. Applause erupted. And there he was.

Richard Castle was striding across the stage, a huge grin plastered across his face, his eyes covered by black sunglasses. And what was that on his face? Had he grown a beard? He raised his hands in the air, gestating wildly, building up the already enthusiastic crowd. The music continued to pulse loudly as he moved to the edge of the stage, bending down to shake the hands of some of the guests who were standing upfront.

From her vantage point, Kate could not entirely tell whether he was putting up an act, or if he was actually himself. Gritting her teeth and knitting her eyebrows together in determination, she politely pushed herself through the tightly packed crowd, attempting to find a better spot. She knew she had promised to stay in the back, but it was too difficult to be so far yet so near to the man. It was like a magnet, pulling her to him. It was natural, she couldn't help it.

Eventually the music began to fade and he was finishing up with shaking hands, finally making his way to the podium. The music came to an end, and Castle struck a pose behind the podium, the 'basking in all the attention' pose.

"Thank you all for coming," his voice was smooth, but lacked the overenthusiastic quality she had always associated with him. It was at that point that Kate knew he was faking it. All of it.

Instinctively her hand when over her heart as she felt for him. If only things had been different. If only. She forced herself to look away, remembering Royce's letter. She had ignored the last advice he would ever give her. She didn't realize she had been holding her breath until she parted her lips to suck in a lungful of air.

"Now, I know I'm famous for my words, but let me keep this brief," Castle continued, placing both his hands on the side of the podium. Kate noticed that his legs were swaying slightly, and saw how his knuckles turned white as he clutched onto the podium for support. She watched as he took a deep breath and forced his smile to spread wide. "Enjoy the book!"

And with that, he pushed away from the podium and practically staggered over to the side of the stage, where Alexis and Martha were waiting for him. The teen immediately grabbed a hold of his hands and hugged him. Kate's eyes were locked on the family until someone new stepped up to the podium. It was the Black Pawn PR rep she'd met at the door. A disconcerted feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She had a very bad feeling about this.

"We have a special treat for all of you," he said, dazzling them all with a tantalizing smile. Kate's heart leapt up into her throat.  _No. No._  "We have a very special person in attendance. Without her, Richard Castle would not be standing here ushering in the launch of the latest in the Nikki Heat books." He paused for dramatic effect, and suddenly his gaze landed on her.

Kate froze, and her eyes went wide. How… how did he spot her? All the lights were out, saved for the one shining right at him. There should be no way he could have seen her. No way in hell! Yet, he was. He was staring straight at her. Damn PR people!

"Ladies and gentlemen," he shifted and raised a hand, gesturing towards her. "I give you…the real Nikki Heat… Detective Kate Beckett!"


	8. Chapter 8

" _Ladies and gentlemen," the Black Pawn PR rep shifted and raised a hand, gesturing towards her. "I give you…the real Nikki Heat… Detective Kate Beckett!"_

Suddenly Kate was blinded by light. She raised a hand up to shield her eyes and squinted, vaguely aware of how all the attention had shifted from the man on the stage to her. Kate glanced around at all the people staring at her with excited faces. She tried to smile, but it just wouldn't hold up on her face.

Kate turned around and pursed her lips, doing her best to look happy, but it probably only came off as anxious and shy, which was okay, since that's how she felt. But mainly she was just embarrassed. Embarrassed and ashamed. She didn't deserve to be honored in such a fashion as Castle's inspiration. Some muse she'd been. He had entrusted his heart to her and she'd crushed it, completely breaking him.

"Well, just don't stand there, Detective," the PR guy called down to her, laughing lightly, like it was all a game. "Come on up."

The crowd parted and she saw another PR rep from Black Pawn at the foot of the stage, waving her over. Biting her lower lip, she gripped her clutch tightly and stepped forward, walking through the path created for her. She spotted the Mayor, and gave him a polite nod and smile in greeting. He smiled back, a true politician's smile, and encouraged her on.

As she reached the stage and the PR rep, the lights began to return to normal. Kate turned and accepted the man's hand as he guided her up the stairs and up onto the stage. Across from her, she spotted Alexis and Martha, along with Paula, giving Gina deadly glares. The publisher, however, looked just as surprised as they did, seeming to suggest that even she was not aware that Black Pawn's Public Relations division had planned doing this.

But before she could think anymore about it, Kate soon found herself standing right alongside Richard Castle. Her heart rate skyrocketed at just the sight of him. She couldn't help it as a huge grin overtook her face as she entered his sphere, feeling instantly better at his close proximity, despite all that had transpired between them.

She glanced to her left and saw Alexis looking at her with an anxious and worried expression, yet still clearly stunned and completely baffled. Frantic concern was radiating off the teen as her gaze shifted to her father. Kate's smile dropped. This was a bad idea. She knew it. Castle… Alexis had told her… he… he might just have another panic attack with being so close to her. God, it hurt so much that that would be his reaction to her presence, but it was understandable with how things had happened.

Nothing good could come from allowing this to—Kate's thoughts were interrupted when his arm easily slipped around her waist, his fingers skimming lightly at the edge of her hip, sending tingles running up her spine as he pulled her closer. She let out an audible gasp and turned, startled, to gaze up at him.

Castle supplied her with his famous smirk and gave a nod of his head. "Smile for the cameras, Kate," he whispered in a low voice, his lips barely moving as he spoke through his smile.

Just the sound of her first name on his lips was enough to coax a beaming smile from her—all teeth and gum. And the second her lips spread wide, the cameras began flashing. Kate hesitantly pulled her eyes away from him, highly aware of how she was gazing at him. She was finding it hard to hide the love and adoration in her eyes, so she forced herself to look out at the crowd, smiling even wider for the cameras.

"How does it feel to be reunited with your muse?" someone shouted out.

She felt Castle stiffen, but only slightly. He arched his neck and surveyed her, and the way his brow furrowed, she could sense him mulling the question over. She wished he didn't have those damn sunglasses on, so she could read his eyes. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a slight grin.

"Great," he called back, turning his attention back to the questioner. "I've really missed her. Can't really write without my muse, now can I?" That garnered some laughter, however his forced levity was not that difficult to hear, at least for her.

Kate began to feel uncomfortable. They hadn't been this close since… well ever, really. She'd never let him hold her like this, and it felt odd to have his arm draped so casually around her waist. It's not like she didn't like it, she did, but it just felt wrong… like they had jumped a few steps to get to this sort of closeness. And that was ignoring the fact that she'd abandoned him during the summer, leaving him to wonder if his memories from the hospital had been real or imagined.

Finally, after a slew of questions, which thankfully were all fielded by Castle—she really didn't know how he did it, putting up a fake front of exorbitant cheer that masked his pain. When the flashes and questions stopped, Kate was almost sadden by the loss of his arm around her waist as he turned away from her, and the PR rep came up to help her back down from the stage. She cast a longing glance over her shoulder as she walked down the steps, seeing him move over to his daughter.

Alexis wasn't looking at Castle, but at her instead, her eyes still holding the frantic edge of fear that her father would crash into a panic attack at any second. Kate felt true sympathy for the teen. She wished she could do more, say or do something that would lessen the burden, and take it away from Castle. But she couldn't, not without risking everything she'd built up to protect him from the monsters behind both her mother's murder and the shooting, which had resulted in not  _her_  getting shot, as was obviously intended, but him instead.

The crowd broke apart and soon everyone was mingling and chatting again, as if everything was just normal. Kate found a server with a tray full of champagne flutes and grabbed one, quickly downing it to help steady her fried nerves. Was she shaking? She felt like she was.

Kate settled herself in the corner of the room and just stood there, watching the party unfold. Eventually Castle came down from the stage, his arm draped over Alexis's shoulder as he mingled with the guests. Her gaze was fixated on him. Nothing else could draw her attention. Nothing.

It felt so awkward, really. They had been standing so close, so very close, up on the stage, and they really hadn't said anything. Hell, she hadn't even said 'hi'. She hung her head, ashamed that she hadn't even managed that. She owed him so much more.

As she watched Castle, she couldn't get over how forced his smile was. He had always enjoyed the fame, the attention. At least, that was before the shooting… before she walked out of his life. To be honest, he looked tired, a pale shade of the vibrant and energetic man that he had used to be. He was no longer Rick Castle, the playboy author willing to sign anything...  _anything_ ; He past by those busty bimbos, not giving them a second glance, even when they asked if he'd sign their chests… not that she was disappointed that he hadn't acquiesced to their request.

Kate noticed his lost look, his momentary sorrowful expression… the way he'd only half listen to what others said as they talked to him. It almost seemed as if life, for him, wasn't interesting anymore. And that worried her. As a cop, Kate knew where that sort of thinking led, and she hated seeing that in Castle.

"Well, I hope you're proud of yourself," came a decidedly prickly voice.

"Excuse me?" Kate blinked and turned her head to find Gina standing before her, arms crossed over her chest with a sour expression on her face.

"Do you get some sort of sick pleasure out of torturing him?" the publisher incredulously asked, practically sneering at her.

"What?" Kate was confused over all this hostility.

Gina laughed darkly. "Oh, that's rich, coming from you," she scowled. "First, you string him along for three years, giving him false hope that you actually care about him, and then… when he needs you the most, you vanish, dump him to the curb like he's trash that needs getting rid of."

Kate's nostrils flared as her protective instincts took hold. "You have know idea what you're talking about," she replied through gritted teeth. She really didn't have to explain herself to Gina. She may be his ex-wife and publisher, but she had no business butting in to what was going on between her and Castle. "Things are complicated… between us."

Gina harrumphed. "Not too complicated that you can't stay away and not twist the knife in his heart," the woman snapped back.

"Oh, now Gina, play nice."

Both women startled when the man himself suddenly materialized before them. Castle gave a pursed lip smile and placed a gentle hand on Gina's shoulder.

"I'd like a moment alone with the detective, if you don't mind," he said.

"Richard, are you sure?"

"Yes, Gina… I'll be fine," he said. "Just… give me a moment, okay?"

Gina sighed and gave a nod. She shot Kate a scalding glare before darting off. Kate let out a breath and turned to glance at Castle, her heart suddenly beating like a jackhammer inside her chest.

"Sorry about that," Castle said, apologizing for his ex-wife.

"It… it's okay," Kate replied, letting out a shaky breath. She glanced away from him for a moment, still a little taken aback by the beard. "I… I probably deserved it."

"No, you don't," Castle asserted, pausing for a moment to tilt his head as he looked her over. A soft hum of approval came from his pursed lips as they slightly tugged upwards in a small grin. "You look good, Kate."

She smiled meekly. "Thanks," she replied, looking up at him. "You look good, too."

"Me… ha… no I don't, but thanks for saying," Castle said with a wave of his hand and a self-deprecating smile.

"So…," her voice trailed off as she tried to think of something to say. "Um… so, you wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah," Castle suddenly turned around and snapped his fingers. One of the PR guys from Black Pawn materialized and handed him something. Castle turned back around, a forced smile on his lips as he handed it to her.

Kate reached out and accepted his offering, glancing down to see that it was a signed copy of  _Heat Rises_. She closed her mouth and swallowed hard, risking a glance up at him. "Castle…"

"I know," he spoke softly. "I'm sorry I didn't give you an advance copy, but I hope getting a signed first edition makes up for it?"

She pursed her lips and gave him a tight smile. There was no way she wasn't going to accept this gift. So she held her tongue, not telling him that Alexis had ensured she had gotten an advance copy. "Thank you, Rick," she said, clutching the book to her chest, making a point of calling him by his first name. "It… it really means a lot."

He smiled back at her. Again, it looked like he was trying too hard to be polite. "Thinking nothing of it," he dismissed the gesture with a wave of his hand.

Kate bit her lower lip and glanced around his shoulder, spotting Alexis. The teen was encouragingly gesturing to her. Kate knew what she wanted. She wanted Kate to end the farce and just tell Castle the truth. Kate had been questioning the plan ever since she first arrived at the party. Seeing him on stage had only increased that line of thinking. Her internal debate was warring inside her and against her better judgment, she surrendered to it, deciding she would confess her treason to him and hope he'd forgive her for the long summer apart. She could only hope that she hadn't destroyed the greatest thing that had ever happened to her.

"Um… Castle… no… er… Rick, I… I need to tell you something," she forced the words out of her mouth before she could chicken out.

"Yes?" he frowned, his eyebrows coming together.

Kate had obviously caught him off guard by the use of his first name, something she rarely did. And now, she'd done it twice in one conversation. She looked up at him and smiled hesitantly, imagining reaching out and smoothing the confused creases on his brow.

"In the hospital, when you were recovering," she began. "Well, I just wanted you to know that—" Her cell phone abruptly went off, making her wince.  _Damn it_. "Sorry," she said, giving him an apologetic expression as she located her clutch and retrieved her phone.

He gave a nod, allowing her the excuse to interrupt the conversation. She felt bad about it, because they really did need to have this talk. She really needed to tell him the truth.

"Beckett," she gave her customary greeting as she answered the call. She was a little ticked, and she did nothing to hide it from her voice.

" _Yo, Beckett_ ," it was Esposito, damn him. Seriously, what was with him and Ryan interrupting her every time she was trying to have an important conversation with Castle? " _Look, I know you're at the launch party, but we just found something that… well, I think you're going to want to see_."

Kate bobbed her head, and groaned inwardly, almost hating herself. But from the sound of Esposito's voice, it seemed like it couldn't wait. "Alright, I'll be there in thirty."

She hung up and stared at her phone for a bit before putting it back in her clutch. Turning on her heels, Kate glanced up at Castle, her expression neutral.

"Look… um… Castle, I'm really sorry, but I need to go," she said, trying to convey some of her regret for bailing on him like this.

Castle just stared back at her and, not for the first time that evening, she wished he wasn't wearing sunglasses. He gave a slight nod. "Yeah, I get it," he said, waving his hand to dismiss it. "You and Josh rarely have matching schedules… so… you know what, just… just go. I don't care."

She opened her mouth to object, but he continued before she could speak. "Ignore the issue. Pretend it doesn't exist. That's what you've always done. I got a book to promote. Bye Beckett, I wish I could say it's been good, but yeah… you know."

"Castle, I…," Kate was going to explain, tell him the truth, that there was no Josh, but then she paused and took in his haggard appearance, the paleness of his skin. She bit back the pain of having to do this to him, making him suffer like this, but it had been necessary. She sighed. Perhaps she shouldn't have even come. He deserved better than a broken woman like her, someone who didn't have the courage to admit the truth. "Sorry," she mumbled, clutching the copy of  _Heat Rises_  that he'd given her.

As soon as she said that, Castle turned away and disappeared into the closest crush of hot young women, who all squealed at his sudden appearance. Kate let out a long sorrowful sigh that her entire body felt. She wished things were different, that she could tell him the truth, but for now his assumptions were probably for the best.  _Better to keep him away until you don't have to worry about the crosshairs finding him_ , she thought, as she calmed down her breathing and sidestepped around a group of book critics, making a hasty escape from the party.

As she walked out, she passed a confused looking Alexis. The teen looked at her with big pleading eyes, begging her not to run. Kate bit the inside of her mouth and held back the sob that wanted to come out. Her eyes began to water and she quickly averted her gaze, looking down, feeling grief laden and ashamed.

Without another look back, Beckett marched out of the ballroom and away from the only man she had ever truly loved.


	9. Chapter 9

He couldn't look at her, couldn't even listen to her false apology. All that stuff he thought might have happened in the hospital, his confusion and puzzlement… were gone. He now knew the truth. It had all been a silly delusion on his part, probably due to the painkillers he had been given. But still, a small part of his mind called out, reminding them that there was still the fact that she had kept a vigil by his bedside for a week. No. He inwardly argued. She'd only done that out of friendship and misplaced guilt because the bullet had been meant for her, and he had taken it in her stead.

Castle fished inside his coat pocket and found the Sharpie that one of Black Pawn's PR guys had given him earlier, before he had come down from the stage. He turned and smiled at a particularly busty blonde. She was practically falling out of her dress. His flashed his famous smirk, and popped the cap on the marker, happily signing her chest as she giggled and asked him all sorts of inane questions. He just nodded and absently answered, not really giving her his full attention.

If he was truly being honest with himself, which he hadn't been during the last three months, he was still consumed by thoughts of a certain brunette detective. What was his, a masochist? Probably. He'd certainly seemed to enjoy self-torture last year when he followed after her while she paraded Motorcycle Doctor Boy around before him. He tried to ignore his thoughts, push them away, but he couldn't. No matter what, whenever it came to her, he couldn't help himself. It was never easy with her. Never had been, probably never would.

Castle was baffled by her behavior and responses to him. He didn't know how she did it, how she could be so damn calm and collected, masking the tension that had practically electrified the air when they were in close proximity. Being so close to her, smelling that sweet cherry scent, God… not to mention touching her—seriously what had he been thinking doing that?—all that, doing it all, it had eaten him up inside. He had to force himself, using all his willpower, to be polite, to not let his confusion and bitterness seep through.

He was in love with her… deeply so. The head-over-heels kind of love. The kind of love he never thought he would ever be so lucky as to be granted by the fates. But it was completely one-sided. A Shakespearean kind of unrequited love.

Castle couldn't even pinpoint the exact moment that it had happened, when his initial attraction had turned from lust to love, but it had. It had been almost instinctive, being drawn to the mystery and beauty that was Kate Beckett, but that was only natural with how he was. It happened gradually, without him really aware of it, until one day as he gazed at her, he realized it was far more than about the books.

It stunned him, really, when he realized his gaze had switched from outright leering to one of true and utter romantic longing. The man who had sworn off love and romance had been struck by one of Cupid's arrows. Usually it was the love goddess, whose love was stooped in lust and unbridled sexual want and raw need that had always been his companion. But not now, not with Kate Beckett. With her, it was true and righteous love guiding him.

And it made him feel like a fool.

It was all a fantasy—his hope and dreams. She obviously didn't feel the same. Sure, she valued his help, and perhaps even considered him a friend… a trusted friend, but anything more than that. No. She had come tonight because she cared for him, yes. But not romantically. No. She came tonight because she felt obligated. Either because she was his friend, or because she had been his inspiration for Nikki Heat, his so-called 'muse'.

He had never once, since he knew her, had used that word so loosely in describing her. It made him almost physically sick to be doing so now. Castle wanted her to be far more than a muse. And she was… if just to him. The doubt and the regret plagued him, and he just could never really understand where he stood with her. She was, like he had said during their rogue LA trip, a mystery he'd never solve. And he both loved and hated that about her. It just made things so very damn frustrating.

Tonight, after the photo-op—not his idea, by the way—all he had wanted to do was give her a copy of the book, and thank her for all her patience and understanding in allowing him to follow her and the boys around. He wanted her to know how very much he had appreciated the fact that she had put up with him, his clowning around and antics, everything that bugged the hell out of her and made her so annoyed and irritated with him. She may not have liked being called a muse, but that's what she had been, and if it had not been for her tolerance of him, Nikki Heat would never have existed. And for that, he would always be grateful, even if Beckett's literary alter ego would always remind him of her.

After greeting some more VIPs and signing some more chests, Castle sought out the only woman in his life he knew without a shadow of a doubt he could always rely on.

"Alexis."

"Dad," she pushed through the crowd to him, wrapping an arm tightly around his. "Are you okay?"

He shook his head. "Get me out of here,  _please_?" he pleaded, desperate to get away from all these fake and shallow people. Sycophants, all of them.

Alexis pursed her lips and he could see the glimmering in her eyes that signaled she was close to tears. As always, she was strong for him. She gave a determined nod. Her hold on him increased and she pulled him with her, ignoring anyone who tried to stop them to get a private one-on-one conversation with the author.

"Stay with me, Dad," she murmured, her bottom lip trembling. "I'll take care of you."

He didn't deserve her, but he was grateful to whatever god had blessed him with such an angel for a daughter. "I know you will, Alexis," he replied softly. "I know you will."

XXX

Beckett strolled into the precinct, having quickly stopped by her apartment to drop off Castle's gift, and to change, before coming in to see what had been so damn important that Esposito interrupted her evening. Part of her wanted to throttle him so badly for that. She had been all prepared to tell Castle the truth and ask for his forgiveness.

She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose as she let out a shallow breath, trying to ease the tension in her shoulders. Beckett didn't know how she had expected the rest of the evening to go, but something inside her said that she was kind of hoping to somehow wind up in Castle's bed by the end of it. Inhaling deeply, she opened her eyes and controlled her emotions, masking her features with that neutral expression that had, during the past three months, become the common manner in which she held her countenance.

Casting her gaze around the bullpen, she spotted the source of her rising wrath.

"Esposito… this had better be  _damn_  important!" she fumed, stalking towards the now terrified looking detective.

Esposito stood awkwardly by his desk, his eyes averted downward as she approached him.

"Well?" she snapped.

"Psst! Over here!" came a hiss.

Beckett frowned and glanced around, looking for the source of the voice. She looked back at Esposito with an irritated expression, and raised an eyebrow, expecting him to explain.

"Come on," he jerked his head, and reached out with a hand for her arm, intent on guiding her towards the shadows and the hissing voice. But upon further reflection, noticing her growing scowl, Esposito withdrew his hand and simply shuffled off.

Folding her arms over her chest, Beckett lowered her shoulders and followed him. They rounded the corner and stepped into the dark shadows of the hallway. Ryan was standing there, looking skittish, his eyes looking around anxiously.

"In here," he said, opening the door to the break room.

She ducked inside, Esposito and Ryan right behind her. Ryan paused at the threshold, looked about nervously, before closing the door and shutting the blinds. Esposito crossed the distance towards the opposite door and did the same. Both men looked extremely out of sorts. Despite her belligerent attitude, Beckett softened just a bit and smirked, amused.

"Why all the cloak and dagger, boys?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, now fully expecting an explanation.

"Don't want Blye knowing about this," Ryan answered, holding up a folder in the dim light.

Esposito nodded. "Figured it safer that we keep it all in house," he said. "Amongst  _the_ family."

Beckett narrowed her eyes. " _The family_?" she questioned. Ah… now she got it. This must have something to do with the shooting and/or their former captain. Her heart clenched a little at that thought. God, despite everything, she really missed Roy Montgomery. "Something come up about the shooting?"

"Well, not directly, no," Ryan elaborated. "Kind of related to the Beynon case."

"You saying Peter Beynon's murder has something to do with my mother's case and the shooting?" she asked out loud, though was careful enough to match their lowered voiced.

"During our canvass of the neighborhood around the crime scene," Esposito began their explanation, "we figured we'd check to see if any street cameras picked up anything."

"And?"

Ryan licked his lips nervously, and held the folder up before her. Taking it in her hands, she cautiously opened it and glimpsed at the contents. Inside were a series of black and white photographs. From the high grain and low quality, she deduced they were from street cameras. Beckett examined each photo at length, noting that they showed a Black Escalade.

"I doubled check, just to make sure," Ryan was speaking fast, his arms shifting from being folded around his chest to resting at his sides. "There's no doubt. That Escalade matches the one that sped through the red light that caused that accident."

Her mind went racing, remembering some of the details from three months back when they had convened in the corner of the hospital waiting room and gone over some of these facts. "The one that happened minutes after the shooting?" Beckett asked, her heart leaping up in her chest at the implications.

Esposito nodded. "The same one, boss. We ran the plates. Their a match."

Ryan took the folder from her, his brow beaded with sweat. He spun it around and found a particularly grainy photo. It had obviously been touched up by the lab techs, and it showed the driver. Not much was visible, but it was clear the man had an Eastern European look about him, maybe from one of the old Soviet Union blocks.

Meanwhile, Esposito produced another folder he had been hiding in his jacket and handed it to her as Ryan held up the other photo. Beckett knitted her eyebrows together, noticing the case number on the folder. She took it in shaky hands and opened it. Her speculations were confirmed when she saw the photos inside. These were the same photographs they had shown her while she was waiting for news about Castle in the waiting room.

The photos showed a Black Escalade racing through an intersection. One image was magnified and pixilated, but clearly showed the driver. And it was the same man.

Her jaw dropped.

"You think this is the same guy, don't you?" she asked, looking up at her fellow detectives.

"Bingo," Esposito said. "He may even be our guy."

Beckett took the two photos and stepped over to the table, laying them alongside each other for comparison. She planted her hands on the surface and leaned over as she examined them. The similarities were too close to be a coincidence.

"Do we have any better shots of the driver?" she asked, hooking her head over her shoulder to the boys, who were both still standing back a ways, shifting uneasily.

Ryan shook his head. "No. Neither are good enough to run facial rec," he said.

"And the old school way is too time consuming," Esposito put forth, frowning.

Beckett reluctantly nodded and turned back to gaze at the photos. She had to agree that taking the time to compare the photos with mug shots would be a waste. Plus it would lend them to the chances of getting exposed. And Esposito were right. They had to keep this in house, so to speak, and away from Captain Blye. The man was a hardass, and would not take kindly to them doing research on a case he had suspended due to lack of evidence. Even this was probably not enough to re-open the case.

"You think he may have something to do with the Beynon murder?" she asked out loud, remembering how they had said they mentioned a connection to that case.

Esposito shrugged and came forward to glance down at the photos with her. "Possibly," he said. "I mean, we're pretty certain the guy's a hired gun, and the initial findings at the scene suggested an execution style murder. Plus the time stamp matches with Lanie's time of death."

Beckett looked towards Ryan, wanting his input as well. The man shrugged and raked his fingers through his hair, still looking completely shaken by the whole thing. "Yeah, I agree with Javier."

"Should we bring Connors in on this?" Esposito asked, looking to her for direction.

She frowned in thought, glancing back down at the photos. "No," she shook her head. "Hank may be my new partner, but he's not  _really_  one of us."

Esposito inclined his head, agreeing with her. He stepped forward and began to gather up the photos and place them back in their folders. "We'll make copies of all the evidence, and sneak them out," he said. "But we've got to be careful."

"Agreed," Beckett said. "When we reconvene tomorrow, we focus on the Beynon murder, and only work this case when we can. But keep it in mind when looking things over. Who knows, maybe those bastards have gotten sloppy and we can nail them."

Ryan smiled. "And then Castle can come back, right?"

Beckett hesitated and averted her gaze. "Yeah," she lied. "And then Castle can come back."


	10. Chapter 10

Beckett hopped out of the shower and dried off. She made quick work of getting ready, stopping only to wait for her coffee to finish. She filled her travel mug, snapping the lid shut, and then was out the door.

She'd left her cruiser at the precinct last night, so she opted for the subway. Tossing her hair back, Beckett marched down the block and around the corner, swiftly making her way down the stairs to the subway station. It had been a while since she'd rode the subway, and she was a little startled at the number of people she encountered this early in the morning. She was used to being one of the few up and about.

Technically, she was supposed to have the day off, per agreement with the captain. Yet, as like the day before, the budget cuts left the precinct under staffed. Beckett didn't mind though. She needed something to keep her occupied, especially after last night.

The train was crammed full, and most of the passengers pressed close together to make room for more. Beckett gripped a railing and took a quick sip of her coffee before shifting to allow a businessman in. The car doors closed and they were off.

Her mind wandered as she recalled the events of the previous day. The murder seemed rather banal. It was a pop and drop… with a twist. Evidence pointed to it being an execution. And from what she and Hank had gathered while interviewing Beynon's widow, she highly doubted his murder had anything to do with a lover's tryst. Though, it was wise not to jump to conclusions.

But then Esposito's call had come, interrupting her moment with Castle. She scowled, freaking out the day trader standing besides her. She was oblivious to his unease, lost in her own thoughts. Beckett was still irritated with not being able to finish her conversation with Castle, not to mention how the man made assumptions that were wildly inaccurate. God, she wanted to correct him, she really did, but part of her still believed it was better he thought so.

Back to the murder. Peter Beynon, high-end real estate broker, had been murdered in the back alley behind an erotica store on the wrong side of town. Something didn't make sense. And then there was the photo. The black Escalade and the image of the man who had run that red light, all the way back in May, when someone had taken a shot at her.

She blinked, briefly recalling that day. Shaking her head, Beckett shoved the images aside, focusing on the present. Whatever got Beynon killed, it must have something to do with the shooting.

The voice of the driver over the intercom pulled her out of her musings. The train came to a halt and the doors shuddered open. Weaving through the crush of passengers, Beckett made her way out onto the platform and then up the exit stairs to the street level.

Gripping her travel mug tightly, Beckett darted across the street and turned the corner, walking at a brisk pace towards the 12th.

She needed to solve this case. Like Ryan said, if they finally put this whole thing to rest, Castle could come back. It was a complete fantasy. Captain Blye would never go for it, not to mention it went counter to her plans to keep Castle safe. But still… a woman could dream.

XXX

It's morning. That much he's sure of. He doesn't really remember that much of last night. Somehow, his beloved daughter—bless her—got him out of the launch party and back to the Loft. When she left him to shower, he must have then wandered around and stumbled upon where she and his mother had cunningly hidden his supply of liquor. At least, from the blurry vision and pounding headache, that is what Castle speculated had occurred the previous night. Not to mention the empty bottle of Jack Daniels sharing his bed with him.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the pillow. If only it could have been a certain brunette he was waking too. God… he had it bad. Really bad. When did this happen to him? How did it? He'd given up on love, yet it had snuck up on him, planting it's dagger deep within. He never knew that love could be so painful.

Pushing the covers off with a groan, Castle slowly sat up on the edge of the bed, resting his forehead in his palms. He closed his eyes and moaned as the throbbing in his head vibrated through his entire body. Scrubbing his face with his hands, he stopped, feeling the hair on his chin and jaw.

"When the hell did I grow a beard?" His question was directed to a silent room. Ugh… even talking seemed to hurt. He groaned and swayed slightly before heaving himself up to his feet.

Castle stumbled blindly across the room to the attached bathroom. He fumbled around for the light switch, wincing when he flicked it on. Squinting in the suddenly harsh brightness of the artificial lights, Castle turned towards the elaborate counter and turned the faucet, scowling when the white noise of the gushing water hit his ears.

Bowling his palms, he splashed his face a couple of times, and then ran his wet hands through his unruly hair and beard. Ah! Now he remembered the beard. He looked at his reflection, seeing the scar on his chest, a pucker mark, red and angry. He grimaced as he reached up to feel the damaged flesh. There was also a longer scar running down his side, presumably from the invasive surgery performed to save his life. It was thin, and had healed somewhat. But the skin still held that redness around it. Slowly, he traced his fingers along the line of the scar. It bothered him that he couldn't feel anything from there.

He pulled himself away from the mirror, the memories of the past couple of months flooding through his mind as he shed his nightclothes and stumbled into the shower, grabbing the handle and cranking it up to full blast.

"Oh!" he jumped when the cold spray hit him. His arms wrapped around his bare chest, trying to keep himself warm. He shivered and rubbed his hands along his arms. "That's cold."

For some reason, still fighting out from his stupor, Castle remained pinned against the back of the shower, resting his back to the cold tiles. He waited for the water to warm. When steam rose around him, he tentatively stepped back under the spray and sighed with relief as the hot scolding water cascaded around him. Closing his eyes, he allowed his mind to drift as he adjusted his stance, turning his back to the spray and hanging his head forward, resting his chin on his chest.

_He stood there, watching her as she spoke of Captain Roy Montgomery. Despite her posture and strong demeanor while she spoke, he could tell she was falling apart inside. She paused, and looked at him, and he frowned, noting the longing in her eyes as she gazed at him. What had she said?_

" _In the end, the best that you can hope for is to find a place to make your stand._ _And if you're very lucky… you find someone willing to stand with you."_

_It had been with those words that she had then turned to look so longingly over at him. He was slightly caught off guard by that look. Never once in all their years together had he seen such a look from her when they had not been faced with death. Was she trying to tell him something?_

_He shook his head, uncertain and confused, looking away as she continued to speak, something about carrying on the fight and such. That's when it flashed in his line of sight. A glare of light. It took him just a second to realize what it was when it flashed again. And then he was rushing towards her, calling out her name._

" _KATE!"_

_A sound ricocheted throughout the silent cemetery, and he pushed off his feet, flying through the air, attempting to tackle her to the ground before it was too late. His body pivoted awkwardly as he bumped into her, his arms wrapping around her as he pulled her down with him, the inertia carrying them forward. And that's when he felt it… a piercing sharp sting in his chest. God… it hurt so much._

_He collapsed on top of her, heavy and solid. She grunted underneath him, and squirmed, trying to get him off. His lungs ached and his entire body seemed to be on fire. It took all his strength just to gasp out a breath of air before tumbling off of her and onto his side._

_Everything was a blur. The sun glared down on him, making it hard to see, but he could have sworn she was hovering over him, tears streaking down her beautiful face as she begged, pleaded with him. He couldn't tell what she was saying, what she wanted, but he wanted to give it to her. He'd give her anything to stop her from crying._

_He blinked, fighting around the blinding pain, searching for her eyes in the harsh light surrounding him. And then he saw her, their eyes locked and he willed himself to speak, to tell her what he had longed to tell her for well over a year._

" _Kate," he managed to croak out. Every breath hurt like hell, but he was going to do this. He had too. If this was going to be his only chance, he was going to tell her the truth, the real reason behind why he kept coming back, why he continued_ _to follow her around. "I love you...," he swallowed and licked his lips, then summoned up the strength to repeat himself, in case he hadn't said it loud enough before. She had to know. "I love you, Kate."_

_He managed a small smile. Victory. He'd finally done it, ceased to be a coward and admitted his feelings. Then everything felt heavy. He was tired. He tried to fight it, but the pull of it was too strong. He continued to smile up at her. He probably looked like a lovesick fool, but he couldn't care less. He was in love with Kate Beckett and that's all he needed._

_Closing his eyes, he released a sigh, and let his head fall back, embracing the black._

Castle gasped, his hand flying up to his chest. It burned. God, it burned! He swiveled around, blindly groping for the shower knob. Locating it, he twisted it around, turning the boiling water into sheets of ice in an instant. Better—cool—dousing the fire.

Turning the shower off, Castle pulled the glass screen open and staggered out onto the floor mat, searching for a towel. Finding one, he pulled it around his quivering frame, finding it to be almost amusing that he was both hot and cold at the same time. His chest tightened and his heart seemed to be screaming in pain. He doubled over, his hand clutching his side. The long thin scar felt like it was on fire.

"ALEXIS!" he cried out, hot tears of pain streaking down his face. "Alexis!" His desperation and utter agony stole his modesty and any shame he had. He just needed help. He felt so hollow and empty on the inside. And the only one he trusted to make it better was his daughter.

She appeared in a flash, her pale cheeks going scarlet as she took in his state of undress. But she quickly masked her embarrassment, and came to him, helping him cover himself before guiding him back to the bedroom and to the mattress. He slumped down, chest heaving—on fire—his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Oh God, Alexis, it burns," he moaned. "It burns."

"Shh. I'm right here, Daddy," she murmured against his ear, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tight as she tried to soothe him. "Just breathe. Nice and deep breaths. Remember. Just like I taught you. Slow and steady. Yes. That's right. Like that."

Her calm and steady voice was a balm to his soul, and his heartbeat slowed. He closed his eyes and took in her reassuring presence, listening to her hum softly as she tried to relax him. Castle felt so weak and shamefaced that he needed her so much, but she made no complaints, simply cradling him against her side as she slowly rocked them back and forth.

"I want it to end, Alexis," he sobbed softly. "I just want it all to end."

Alexis stiffened momentarily at his words, but then she went right on rubbing his back and arms, humming softly as she interjected some reassuring words of comfort. He leaned against her, and waited for his breath to even out.

XXX

The elevator bell dinged and Beckett strode out, all business, striding into the bullpen and swiftly taking a seat at her desk, booting up her computer. She glanced to the left and a sad smile worked its way onto her lips. The chair.  _His_  chair. It still sat there, besides her desk, empty, a memorial to the man no longer following her around.

And then it was filled. She blinked, startled, and couldn't help the scowl and hint of anger that flashed in her eyes. Flicking her eyes up, she spotted Detective Connors, her newly assigned partner. Beckett quickly shoved her feelings down. It wasn't his fault. He didn't know. And besides, he wasn't that bad.

"Morning, Hank," she greeted him.

"Beckett," he gave a nod, looking up from the file he was reviewing.

She turned to her computer, typed in her password and perused her emails. "So," Beckett said, giving him a sideways glance. "You got anything?"

"Last night, I went to the Plaza, talked to Jean-Paul, the concierge," Hank informed her, flicking through the papers in the file. "He confirms Mrs. Beynon's alibi."

"Did he offer up her mystery lover's name?" she asked.

"No," Hank frowned, looking up from the folder. "Though I did get the distinct impression that it was someone big."

"Uh-huh?"

"Yeah," he continued. "I'm thinking politician."

"In this city, it's always a possibility," Beckett replied, swiveling in her chair to face her partner.

"Anyways," he said, turning his head to look up at the murder board. "I think that this mystery lover might be of some interest, if not for the murder, just to expose his horrific tastes."

She snorted out a laugh and brought her hand up to her mouth, embarrassed. Hank chuckled and shook his head. Beckett turned in her chair and glanced up just as Ryan and Esposito made their appearance. They both looked wired up. She wondered if they had gotten any sleep. She'd barely managed any herself, having nightmares involving that awful day last May.

When everyone seemed settled, she stood up. "Alright," she said, sauntering over to the board. "We've got some work to do. Mrs. Beynon's mystery man is real, Hank's confirmed that," she informed the boys. Ryan and Esposito looked at the picture of Amanda Beynon and shuddered.

"Who'd want to sleep with Frankenstein's Bride?" Ryan let slip out.

"I don't even want to know," Esposito shook his head.

"What  _we_  do know," Beckett gave them a pointed look as she continued with the morning briefing, "is that Peter Beynon was murdered, execution-style, in the back alley of an erotica store."

"Yeah, what's up with that?" Ryan chirped up.

Everyone stopped and looked at him.

"What? I was just wondering…," Ryan mumbled, quickly averting his eyes and pretending to find something extremely interesting on the other side of the bullpen.

"No, Ryan, good point," Beckett conceded, rescuing him. "Why don't you and Esposito go back down there and check it out. Show Peter's picture to the shop owner, and do another canvas of the neighborhood. Might as well be as thorough as possible. Hopefully someone who was quiet yesterday might be more talkative today."

The boys nodded, and turned back to their desks, picking up their coats. Beckett sighed and turned to Hank.

"And us?"

She smirked. "Mrs. Beynon said something about Peter having a business partner. Why don't we go chat with him?"

Hank bobbed his head as he stood up. "If there is always a motive stronger than sex, it's money."

"You got that right."


	11. Chapter 11

Timothy Greene was the definition of a sleazy used car dealer, except he was in the real-estate business. It wasn't that he looked like one, in fact, he looked quite the opposite: Successful, sophisticated, and classy. He exuded all the qualities that one would expect in a high-end real-estate broker, except for the one singular fact that he just gave off that sleazy used car dealer vibe. It was almost like you couldn't trust anything that came out of his mouth.

The offices of Beynon/Greene were located in an upscale part of downtown, in a very nice building. The reception area was decorated in exquisite fixtures and paintings, some of which looked quite expensive. The plants were watered and trimmed with precision, giving the space taste and class. The receptionist was young and pretty, and though her blouse's bust line was far too low for Beckett's liking—showing off probably a little too much cleavage—it still covered enough that it wasn't trashy.

Beckett flashed her badge and asked to see Mr. Greene, and to her surprise, the receptionist buzzed them in immediately. She was not used to this. Normally they had to wait a while, but it seemed that Greene had been expecting them.

The moment he stood up from behind his desk and shook her hand, Beckett shuddered, picking up that sleazy used car dealer vibe. And the man didn't disappoint. He was smooth and clever with his words, but she could handle that easily. She'd spent three years being shadowed by a man who made his living with words, so Mr. Greene's wit and repartee was no match for her own.

Finally, after some unnecessary small talk, they got down to business.

"You're here about Peter," Greene stated, not asking. He took a seat behind his desk, gesturing for them to sit down as well.

Beckett gave a nod and pulled out her notepad while slipping down into the chair facing the desk. Her partner did likewise, sitting down in the chair parallel with hers. Both chairs were exquisite and looked like they cost more than four months worth of Beckett's yearly salary.

"How did he die?" Greene inquired.

"He was shot," Hank answered curtly, not bothering to elaborate.

"He was found in the back alley behind—" Kate checked her notes and grimaced, "Tressa's House of Pleasure."

Greene's eyebrows shot up in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"It's an erotica store," Hank filled in, glancing briefly over at Beckett before continuing. "And from what we've been able to gather, it appears he was there late at night."

"Where exactly is this… um… store?" Greene asked, pausing a moment as he stumbled over how to refer to the place.

Hank informed Greene about the part of town the store was located and Beckett caught recognition in his eyes. She leaned forward. "The address sounds familiar?" she questioned.

Greene took a second before nodding. "Yes, we were actually looking into some real-estate around that part of town," he admitted. "A… um… client of ours was looking to make some purchases."

"Really? I find that odd," Hank said. "I thought you guys dealt in the high end stuff."

"If you haven't noticed, we're still kind of stuck in a recession," Greene said. "And no matter what the economic 'experts' on Capitol Hill say, we're still struggling to get back to where we were before the fall."

Beckett inclined her head. "So, you took what you could get."

"Exactly," Greene said. "Peter had recently been scouting around that part of town, looking for potential investments to make." He sighed. "When we started off, we were selling condos and luxury apartments… now we've had to scrape the bottom of the barrel to turn any profit."

That piqued her interest. "How is business, exactly?" she asked, exchanging a quick look with her partner to see if he was on the same page.

"Not as good as I'd like to admit," Greene confessed. "In truth, we've been floundering for quite a while. We used to have a staff of fifty. For the past four months it's just been Peter and me. Now I guess it's just me and Eliza."

Eliza? Beckett frowned. Oh… right, the receptionist.

"What will happen now that Peter is dead?" Hank asked.

Greene shrugged. "I guess I'll fold the business, collect the insurance and try to start new somewhere else."

Beckett and Hank looked at one another and couldn't help but smirk a bit. They'd just stumbled upon another potential motive. She had more questions, but with this new information, she wanted a change of setting, one where she had more control. Beckett shifted and stood up, Hank followed suit. "If it's not to inconvenient, I'd like to continue this at the station."

"Am I going to need a lawyer?" Greene asked, furrowing his brow.

"Only if you have something to hide," Hank replied with slight tilt of his head.

XXX

Castle shuffled about his office, pulling books out of their spots and placing them on his desk, stacking them up into a pile. He pushed up on his toes, stretching to reach one on a higher shelf and grimaced, feeling the pull on his scar. He gritted his teeth and suffered through the pain… something he was becoming increasingly used too. Suffer in silence. Or at least, just buckling down and taking it, letting it roll over him in waves as he just accepted the inevitability of it.

Sighing despondently, Castle slumped back down onto his feet and padded back over to his desk, putting the book down. Scrubbing his palms over his face and scratching his beard, he slipped around the edge of the desk and sat down in his chair. He looked around at the pile of books and nodded, and then scooted closer to his desk and popped open his laptop.

He called up a word document, and stared at the blank screen. It was about time he moved on from Nikki Heat… from Kate… it was clear nothing was ever going to come from that, from her, so he needed—no, he had too—move on.

In that vein, Castle had collected and arranged a variety of the many books he'd used over his career for source material to make his stories and characters seem more authentic and real. He'd hardly used them during the past three years, seeing as he was living the real thing, with the real Nikki Heat. But seeing as he couldn't do that any more, he had to come up with something different, some different character that wouldn't make him think about Detective Kate Beckett.

Yes. He was done with Nikki Heat. Writing her now was just too painful. He needed something to distract him, something fun.

What to write about?

Castle swiveled in his chair and randomly snatched up a book from the pile. He looked at the cover:  _Famous Tombs and Treasures_. He raised an eyebrow. Interesting. Leaning back, he opened the book and flipped through the pages, stopping to analyze the glossy colored photos of famous ancient treasures, from the Mask of Agamemnon to King Tutankhamen's golden sarcophagus. There was even a picture of the famous Mitchell-Hedges crystal skull.

He smirked and glanced over at the replica he had on his desk. Too bad that had already been done. He might have been the only one that actually liked the whole alien angle. Then again, Castle was odd that way. He chuckled to himself, self-deprecatingly. He really was a geek sometimes.

As he continued to flip through the book, he stopped on an artist's depiction of Montezuma's mythical treasure trove. According to legend, the fallen Aztec king's treasure was located somewhere in the Southwestern United States or Northern Mexico. He ran his fingers through his beard, pondering the idea of straying out of murder mysteries and doing an Indiana Jones-esque treasure hunter story. He could still add a murder in there, something that happens in the beginning of the story that starts the race for the treasure.

His brow wrinkled as he thought more about the idea. Yes… this was good. It would get him out of his narrow genre and into something different. Something fun. Action and adventure. Yeah. He could do that. It'd get him away from painful memories. And away from reality.

A knock at the doorway interrupted his brainstorming. With a blink of his eyes, he returned and glanced up.

"Mother?"

"Richard, darling," his mother swayed into the room with her normal dramatic flare. Her eyes were warm and soft, the motherly concern hard not to miss.

He frowned and released a sigh.

"I take it you've spoken with Alexis about what happened this morning?"

"She's concerned about you, Richard," Martha inclined her head, coming over to sit on the edge of the desk in front of him. "And so am I." She paused, hesitating. "Last night… it was… tough, wasn't it?"

Tough? Ha. That was an understatement, to say the least.

Castle closed his eyes and heaved in a slow steady breath. "It…," he breathed out, "was difficult, yes… but I… I needed to do it. To do something normal for once."

"But it wasn't normal, kiddo," Martha corrected. "Don't think I didn't notice your exchange with a certain detective."

He groaned, and glared up at her. Seriously? Did she have to mention  _her_? Castle gritted his teeth, ignoring the pang of hurt and anguish in his heart. "I dealt with it, Mother."

"And look what happened as a result?" Martha responded, waving her hand towards his bedroom.

"Mother—"

She cut him off with a stern, disapproving look. "Richard," Martha hedged lightly, like she was treading on thin ice. "Maybe… maybe you should see someone. You know? Talk things out in the open and release some of the burden you've been carrying around on your shoulders all summer. If not me or Alexis, then… someone else."

He hung his head down and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't want to _see_  someone, Mother," he groaned, gazing back up at her with a determined glare. "I'm not some troubled survivor in need of mental help."

"Richard, you had a panic attack while in the shower," Martha reminded him, giving him a stern motherly stare. "Alexis, poor thing, had to come and help you out. Richard, if you're not going to think of yourself, think of her. Think of how that must of been for her."

Castle took in a sharp breath, feeling his heart pound with the impact of her words. He… he hadn't thought of that. Hadn't been considerate enough to think how his moods and random anxiety attacks would affect his beautiful daughter… his sweet little girl. He sighed in defeat and inclined his head, guilt swelling up in his chest.

"Sorry."

"Oh darling, you have nothing to be sorry for," Martha said, easing down onto her knees before him and cradling his face in her hands, gazing at him with the love that only a mother could have for her child. She scooted closer and hugged him tightly. "Nor should you be ashamed. You went through a very traumatic experience, Richard. What you're feeling is normal. People don't expect you to immediately bounce back after something like that. Alexis understands. I understand. We  _all_  understand." She paused and took a breath. "However, you do need help—professional help—whether you like it or not."

He nodded. "I know," Castle murmured. "I'll… I'll try, Mother."

"That's all I ask," Martha smiled at him softly and leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. She stood back up and smiled more widely as she took in the mess of books on his desk, looking hopeful. "Doing some… research?"

"Um, yes," he replied cautiously. "I'm thinking of taking a break from murder and mayhem, and trying something different. Something fun… and uncomplicated."

"Sounds just like something you need, kiddo," Martha said with a wink and pat on his knee before sauntering out of the room, and leaving him to his thoughts.

XXX

She can't stop moving, can't stay still, not after that, not after seeing what she's just witnessed. Her heart clenched in her chest as she recalled the desolation, the misery, and hopelessness in his eyes. It felt like he was giving up. That wasn't right. He… he never gave up. Never. Not her dad. No. Not Richard Castle.

Alexis Castle was pacing in her room, having just returned from soothing her father after another one of the myriad of panic attacks he has had during the course of the last couple of weeks. She honestly thought he was getting better. He hadn't had one that bad since before they left the Hamptons.

She halted in her tracks, staring blankly at nothing as she thought.

The launch party. He had a mild attack there, before he went out on stage. What had happened? She racked her brain, trying to remember. Last night had been an especially difficult night for them…  _them_! Kate. It was because of Kate. His panic attack before going out on stage was a result of him being informed that Kate Beckett was going to be present at that party.

Alexis sighed and slumped down on the edge of her bed, folding her hands in her lap. What had happened between the two of them? She knew that they had spoke, privately, seen them standing off to the side, Kate clutching a copy of  _Heat Rises_  to her chest as she spoke with her father. But… something had happened. Kate had received a phone call and then she was bolting out of there. Alexis could remember the glistening eyes that glanced up at her as the detective hurried out of the ballroom.

What had happened? The question just wouldn't go away. Something must have happened to have caused Kate to run away like that, and then to trigger a panic attack in her dad the following day.

Huffing, Alexis pushed her hair back from her face. Why did life have to be so complicated? It was clear that her father and Kate were in love, but then… the shooting seemed to change everything. Kate wanted to protect her dad, keep him out of harm's way. Alexis could hardly argue with that, as she felt the same way. But she didn't want to see her dad hurt so much in the process.

Chewing on her lower lip, Alexis pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and flipped through her contact list. She had to make this right. She had to fix this. And there was only one way to do that.


	12. Chapter 12

Kate Beckett stood in the observation room watching as Timothy Greene spoke with his attorney. After bringing him down to the station, she had questioned him some more, while Hank ran financials. He had no alibi for the time period in which Lanie gave them for the time of death. Greene claimed he was home at the time, and he was alone. So there was no one to back up his story.

When Hank knocked on the interrogation room door with the financial files in hand, Beckett had stepped out and gave them a cursory look. The records and files showed just how much Greene benefited, financially speaking, from Peter Beynon's death, lending credence to the suspicions she was beginning to have that Greene, whether by his direct hand or not, was responsible for Beynon's murder.

While she was pursuing the files, Ryan and Esposito returned, along with a witness, who claimed to have seen someone sneaking out of that alley around the time of the murder. Beckett and Hank personally interviewed the witness, realizing very early on that his description of the suspicious person matched Greene.

And then there was the gun that the uniforms found in a dumpster two blocks away. It had a silencer on it and after getting the ok from the lawyers, Beckett sent a technician in to get a sample of Greene's prints.

Now she was waiting, waiting to see if Timothy Greene had killed his long-term friend and business partner to collect the life insurance policy as he jumped the ship from the floundering business. It irked her that the man could have done such a thing simply for money. Through her interrogation of him, Greene had continued to claim that he and Peter were the greatest of friends, but still… the evidence was kept piling up against him.

The sound of the door opening pulled her focus away from her thoughts. She turned her head to see Esposito slipping in, cautiously throwing a look over his shoulder. She opened her mouth to ask him if the report from the crime scene tech was back but stopped. He looked… anxious, shifting on his feet as he quickly closed the door and stepped over to her, holding out a folder.

"I did some more digging," he finally spoke up, his voice quiet and cautious.

"Digging?"

"On the why Beynon was in that part of town," Esposito said, shoving the file at her.

Beckett took it with a wary look, shaking her head. "We already know why," she said. "He was looking into some proprieties in the area."

"Yeah, yeah, but this…," Esposito jabbed a finger on the file. "This isn't about him… or Greene."

"Oh," was all she said, knowing immediately it had to do with her mom's case and the May shooting. Closing her eyes briefly, she sucked in a quick breath and opened the file. Inside were security cameras of a vacant warehouse. Parked adjacent to the building was a familiar black Escalade.

"The plates match," Esposito answered her silent question. "It's definitely the same SUV."

Beckett chewed on her lower lip as she scanned the photo, then glanced at Esposito and quirked up an eyebrow. "I thought I told you guys to do this on the down low," she said, recognizing the fact that this photo was from a security camera, and there was nothing tying it to the case they were working on.

" _We_  are," Esposito hissed out in a fierce whisper, giving her a put out look, like she should know that him and Ryan wouldn't rattle any cages and get caught. "Just so happens that that warehouse is one of the many Beynon was looking into for his client."

"Okay," she let out a sigh. "So it's linked, good." Beckett looked back at the photo. She was relieved. There was nothing suspicious about them asking for a snapshot from a security camera when the building it was pointed at was linked to their current case. "So, you thinking they've been using this place?"

"For meetings and such, yeah," Esposito nodded. "Ryan's downtown, trying to get a warrant for the client names from the Beynon/Greene offices."

Beckett's eyes shot up. "A name," she said. "We can get a name for  _them_."

Esposito was sporting a cocky grin. "Yeah, and that'll bring us one step closer to nailing these bastards once and for all."

Beckett nodded, not really trying to get her hopes up. She'd gotten her hopes up before, only to have them dashed away. And now, she had more at stake than she had in the past. It wasn't just her mother's death she was seeking justice for now; Castle was now there too. She could not help but feel guilty over how her own personal vendetta had snared him into its web, almost killing him in the process… all… all because he loved her.

Pushing past the sudden lump in her throat and fighting back the threatening tears of guilt and grief, Beckett handed the file back to Esposito. "Let me know when you have more, okay?" she hated how her voice cracked on that last word, her emotions getting the better of her.

"We'll get this one, Beckett," Esposito tried to reassure her, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving her a comforting squeeze. "We'll get this."

She managed to give him a weak nod. "Thanks, Espo—" Her cell phone went off and she fished it out of her pocket, hitting the answer button without bothering to look at the caller I.D. "Beckett."

She was met with silence, yet she could hear someone breathing on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Um… Detective Beckett… er… I mean, Kate, it's… it's Alexis," came the shaky voice of the teen.

Beckett raised her eyebrows and quickly turned her back to Esposito, lowering her voice. She didn't want the boys to know what her and Alexis had planned. "Is everything alright?" she asked, filling with worry for Castle. Her heart began to pound with uncertainty and longing. Even though she had seen him last night, Beckett still needed news about him, needed to know he was okay.

"No," she could hear the sob in Alexis's voice. It sounded like the girl was barely holding herself together. "I… I thought he was getting better. He  _was_ better… but then… I don't know. Something… something happened last night, and now… God… it's gotten worse, Kate."

Beckett swallowed hard and closed her eyes against the fresh wave of tears that wanted out as Alexis went into detail over what had happened that morning. It hurt, god, it hurt so bad to hear that Castle was in so much pain, and all because of her. From what she could make out, Alexis was unclear as to what exactly had happened last night at the launch party, and Kate wasn't in a sharing mood. Some things, no matter how wide spread their effects were, had to remain just between her and Castle.

"It has to end," Alexis declared at the end, her voice more steady and firm now, determined. "It isn't working and, don't tell him I told you this, but he needs you. He… he  _really_  needs you, Kate. So… you need to fix this… like, right now!"

"Now?" Kate can't help but raise her voice a little bit.

"Beckett?" Esposito questioned, still in the room, slightly confused as to what's going on.

She raised a hand, telling him she'd explain another time… like never. Like she wanted everyone know the hell she'd been putting Castle through, all in the name of saving him.

"Alexis, I… I don't think that's such a good idea," Kate spoke softly, turning away from Esposito's perplexed expression. She breathed through he nose, trying to calm her nerves and the rising tide of guilt within. She wanted to give in, to cave to the girl's demands, but it was too risky right now, especially with how her and the boys were finally making some headway into potentially finding the shooter.

"Why?" Alexis questioned incredulously, like she couldn't believe her. "It's eating him up. He's trying. He puts up a good front most of the time, but then I catch him staring off at nothing, and I just know he's gotten lost in the memories and his thoughts of… of you."

Kate let out a long sigh. She could not believe she was having this conversation with Castle's daughter, and over the phone no less. This wasn't the time or place to have it, but they were. Scrubbing a hand over her face, Beckett cast a glance back into the interrogation room. If only the lab techs could hurry this up so she could charge Greene for the murder and pass him along to uniforms for booking, and then… maybe then she could deal with this quagmire she'd gotten herself stuck in.

"Okay," she breathed out, startled by how fast she'd made this decision. She was going to abandon the plan and talk it out with Castle. Not all, some, yes. But not now. Later. "I'll stop by later tonight, after I get off. And… and I'll talk to him, okay. I'll fix it. Or at least try to fix it. It might not be that easy, Alexis."

"I know," the teen sighed. "But it's the best we can do. Grams asked him to see a therapist, and I know that'll be good for him—"

"It will," Kate interjected, speaking from experience.

"I… I just know that it wouldn't be enough for him," Alexis continued. "Don't tell him I said this, but I don't really think he's been in love before you."

That floored Kate. She stammered, not knowing how to respond.

"I mean, he's loved yes, but never been  _in_  love, you know?" Alexis pleaded, like she was desperate to convince Kate how much she meant to Castle.

"Alexis," Kate started, wanting to correct the girl. She was fairly positive that Castle had been  _in_  love before, and that was probably with Kyra Blaine, but Kate didn't know how much Alexis knew about that, so she wasn't going to mention it.

She, herself, was sure she'd been in love before, with Royce, but that was different, not the same, not as all encompassing as the love she felt for Rick Castle. She'd truly never felt this way for anyone else, and sometimes it scared her. It was what made her hesitant about opening her heart to him, afraid he'd break it. And he almost had, on several occasions, without even knowing it. But she knew better now, knew the lengths he'd go to show his love. And Kate could not stand the idea of losing him without ever really having him. Hell, she  _never_  wanted to lose him.

"I know it's silly for me to say," Alexis hurriedly spoke before Kate could say anymore, "but I just know it somehow. I've never seen him this way, not with Gina, and not… not even with my mother."

"I'm sorry, Alexis," Kate said, feeling the need to say it.

"Just… just fix this, please?"

"I'll try, Alexis, I'll try," she replied, glancing over at Esposito, who looked like he was trying very hard to appear as if he wasn't eavesdropping. "Look, I've got to go, but I'll stop by tonight."

She heard what sounded like a sigh of relief. "Okay."

"I'll call before," Kate said.

"Okay."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Beckett hung up and looked down at her phone for a long moment, letting the conversation sink it. She could do this. She would do this. She  _had_  to do this. Heaving in a quick breath, and clearing her face of any emotions that could betray her, she turned back to Esposito.

"Let's go pester that lab tech to see if he could get those prints done faster," she said, already heading for the door.

XXX

Castle looked up as Alexis came down the stairs. She'd been in her room for the better part of the morning, and he was grateful that she was at least coming out for lunch. Glancing in her direction, he paused, frowning when he noticed the expression she wore. Her posture and demeanor made it seem like she was just returning from a clandestine rendezvous with a batch of conspirators.

"Everything alright, Pumpkin?" Castle questioned, narrowing his eyes as his daughter quickly shook her head.

"Fine," she chirped with a quick smile… a little too quickly for his liking.

He chewed on his lower lip and knitted his eyebrows together. She was hiding something. And whatever it was… it was big, or at least something she didn't want to talk to him about. Which was odd, really, since he was the 'cool dad'. She used to always be able to talk to him about things. Lord knows it was awkward enough when they had to have the 'sex' talk, but they'd managed to make it through that conversation unscathed. Plus it had helped that Martha had been around to help with some of it.

Giving his daughter a long look, Castle shrugged nonchalantly, letting the matter drop. For now.

"So, what's for lunch?" Alexis asked, propping herself up on one of the barstools.

"Grilled cheese," Castle replied. "It's a bit cold outside, figured some good comfort food would hit the spot."

Alexis gave a slight nod. "Sounds good."

She leaned against the countertop on her elbows and glanced around, not all there. Castle watched her cautiously, trying to be stealthy as he also doubled on flipping the grilled cheese sandwiches in the pan. Alexis was obviously still lost in whatever it was she had been doing before poking her head out of her room. She'd been holed up there since his panic attack. Yeah, he was finally conceding that that was what it was. It irritated him, but he couldn't rightly ignore the facts.

"So," Alexis drawled out slowly, glancing towards his office, noticing the stack of books and his opened laptop. "What have you been doing?"

"Oh, just some research," Castle spoke tentatively. His lips tugged upwards in a light grin. "I'm thinking of taking a break from Nikki Heat and maybe trying something more fun and less complicated."

Alexis perked up and her eyes went wide. "Oh… um… like what?" she frowned, looking confused and worried at the same time.

"Something with adventure and action," Castle said, swirling the spatula with a dramatic flare. "Still have some murder and intrigue in it, can't really get away from that, it is my bread and butter after all."

"Right," nodded Alexis, leaning over the counter to snatch a pickle from the plate he'd set up prior to heating up the pan. "Like a Rollins book?"

Castle furrowed his brow and shrugged. "Perhaps, maybe something like Cussler or Berry," he smirked, a true boyish smirk that he hadn't done in a long time. "Maybe something Indiana Jones-esque."

Alexis barked out a laugh, then held her hand over her mouth, blushing slightly. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Castle bobbed his head in earnest. "Wouldn't be exactly like Jones, but similar. Maybe I'll call him Marcus Munro, or something like that. Give him a beard; make him ruggedly handsome too. Maybe have some slight graying along the temples, but still not too old. Gotta have him still be virile enough for all the ladies."

"Um…  _eww_ … gross, Dad," Alexis shook her head. "I really don't need to hear about that."

"Come on, Lexie," Castle groaned, feeling almost like his old-self. "You've read my other books. All those sex scenes are classy and sophisticated. I don't lower myself to the vulgarity of smut."

"I don't know about that," Alexis said, shifting, somewhat uncomfortably on her barstool. "The scenes in your Nikki Heat books get kind of… um… _steamy_. More than I need to know about your fantasies kind of steamy."

"Hey!" he protested, then paused, frowning.

But, yes, she was right.

Those scenes between Nikki and Rook were far more than just scenes between two characters Castle had created in his mind. He had imagined Kate Beckett in the role of Nikki and himself in the role of Jameson Rook when he had written those scenes. He couldn't help it. She had been his inspiration after all. And there was no denying how incredibly smokin' hot Detective Beckett was. No man in his right mind wouldn't imagine such things. He certainly couldn't. And he wrote them down to boot.

He had a whole collection of Nikki/Rook sex scenes written. Many, of which, would never see the light of day. Now… some of those were definitely smutty and bordered on the pornographic, what with the graphic details he'd gone into. So yeah. Those scenes of the frolicking bed (sometimes shower, couch, desk, etc.) activities of a certain detective and her journalist shadow—veiled representations of Kate and himself—weren't for anyone. Because when it came to Kate, his overactive imagination would often get the better of him. He'd spent many a night getting his sexual frustration out writing those scenes; scenes he'd never use, but couldn't help but write. And if Beckett ever found out about them… God help him, she'd probably throttle him, or shoot him. Whichever was more convenient or emotionally satisfactory.

"Dad!"

"Uh? Yes, Alexis?" he blinked, returning to the present.

"The grilled cheese!"

"Oh, yes," Castle turned his focus back to the pan, and scooped up the sandwiches, noticing that the bread was a little bit more charred than they normally would be if he had been paying attention. He quickly deposited the darkened sandwiches on the waiting plates and served lunch.

He was quiet and introspective as they ate, which seemed fine with Alexis, as she too was silently lost in her own thoughts. He chewed slowly while he thought about the woman he loved so much, yet had never been able to have. His heart ached with each beat, and it crushed his soul not to see her.

Yet at the same time, the pain and hurt when she was around was also unbearable. He couldn't stand idly by while she buried herself in nowhere relationships with men she didn't love. She deserved so much more. She should be happy. She deserved to be happy, especially with all the grief and heartache she'd endure in her life. No one should have suffered through what she had to.

He just wished he could be the one to make her happy.

Castle sighed, gloomily. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe she wasn't in empty relationships. After all, if she were truly happy with where she was, and whom she was with, then she'd have no problem ignoring what he thought was the obvious yearning in his eyes every time he gazed longingly at her.

He wore his heart on his sleeve, and had never been afraid to express himself. But with Kate, it had been different. He'd been nervous and anxious around her. Worried about what she'd think. It took him a while to fully grasp what it was he was feeling, because he had never felt it for someone in a very long time. The last time he had truly felt that emotion stir in him had been with Kyra.

It had been startling, at first, discovering he could actually love another. He'd thought Kyra would be his one and only, the perennial one that got away. But he had been wrong. Oh, so wrong. There was still a part of him that would always love Kyra, but the vast majority, if not all, of his heart now belonged solely to another. To Kate. And he didn't think he'd get it back. He was hooked, forever longing for something he could never have.

So very him, really.

Castle sighed, looking down at his half empty glass of milk. Perhaps his mother was right. He really did need to seek professional help.


	13. Chapter 13

Riding up the elevator Beckett was silent. They'd just gotten the reports back from the CSU lab techs, and the results were… inconclusive. She scowled. She had been hoping that the prints found on the gun would match Greene, but they only had a partial to compare the prints taken of Greene by the tech in the morning.

The lab tech had said that it appeared as if the gun had been hastily wiped down, so most of the prints were smudged and unusable. But they still had the partial on the handle… it just didn't match Greene. It might have, but it was only a partial and there weren't enough points to match any prints they had on system, hence the inconclusive results.

Lanie had called while they'd been down in the lab, informing them that she'd found some skin under Benyon's fingernails, and that she was currently running the sample against the DNA collected earlier from Greene. Beckett found herself putting all her hopes on that DNA sample, since they got nothing from the gun.

Esposito, mercifully, was silent during the ride up. Beckett knew he had overheard most of her conversation with Alexis. It wasn't like her feelings for Castle were a secret anymore, at least between 'the family'. All her friends had been there that day in the hospital to witness her emotionally charged breakdown. They all now knew she was in love with Castle. Thankfully, neither Esposito nor Ryan questioned her on how she was handling it. That seemed to be Lanie's job. For a moment, she wondered if they were all working together, Lanie as the ringleader. It would be so like Lanie to do that.

The ding of the elevator, and the rattle of the doors opening, called Beckett back to the present. She stepped out and marched straight to the bullpen. Hank was at his desk, looking over some files, and Ryan was talking on the phone, occasionally glancing up at Hank, as if he was keeping his eye on the new guy.

She slumped down in her chair with a huff, highly frustrated and disappointed. They had nothing to hold Greene on and she had little doubt that his lawyer would soon be asserting that fact. She gritted her teeth and leaned forward, punching the keys on her keyboard a little too hard as she typed in her password and opened up her e-mail.

As usual, her inbox was light. There was a message from her father, which she skipped, saving for later. She knew what it was about. She'd been ducking his calls since someone let it slip to him that she had attended the launch party for  _Heat Rises_. Two other e-mails were from the CSU teams—the digital copies of their reports. Another e-mail from Lanie, giving her the latest information from the autopsy. She skimmed that.

Peter Beynon had been beaten, aggressively, before his death. From what Lanie had found, it appeared that Beynon was probably tortured for a bit before his killer or killers finally dragged him out into the alley and shot him in the head. She narrowed her eyes and scanned the x-ray photos Lanie had attached to her e-mail. There appeared to be some major bone fractures, all of which had healed, though the M.E. had noted that the setting of the bones did not look professional. And there were nothing in Benyon's medical records to show he'd visited the hospital with broken bones.

"BECKETT!"

She glanced up from her computer screen to see Captain Blye stalking out of his office, looking pissed off. The other members of her team all looked up and started to gather around, sensing she might need their support.

"Sir?" she tentatively asked.

"Where are you on the Beynon case?" growled Blye, stopping before the murder board and crossing his arms over his chest. He looked uncomfortable in a shirt and tie, the sleeves rolled up. Evidently, Bill Blye was not one for suits.

Beckett sighed. "We're liking his business partner for it…"

"But?"

"Right now all the evidence is circumstantial," she informed her captain. "Nothing concrete yet. We were hoping the lab techs would pick something up with prints, but the gun only has partials on it."

"Are you sure he even pulled the trigger?" Blye inquired, glancing in the direction of the interrogation room Greene and his lawyer were waiting in.

"No," Beckett shook her head.

"But we're positive he was involved," Esposito piped in.

"And he has motive and means," Hank added.

She glanced over at her partners and gave them a quick smile of thanks for jumping to her defense. Blye frowned and rubbed his chin. Ryan's desk phone rang, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen on the group. The captain watched Ryan quickly make his escape and dart for his phone.

"Anything else?" Blye asked, narrowing his eyes and practically glaring at Beckett.

She bit the inside of her mouth, having no intention of informing her superior about the connections she and the boys had found in relation to the sniper shooting during Montgomery's funeral. The image of Castle bleeding out on the crisp green grass flashed through her mind. She stifled it down, needing to focus. She'd be dealing with some of that later. Right now, Beckett needed all her attention on the case at hand.

Timothy Greene was mixed up in this, of that she had no doubt. But the extent of his involvement was up in the air. In her gut, Beckett wasn't really surprised that the fingerprint analysis had been inconclusive. She doubted Greene had actually pulled the trigger, though it was very clear that he did profit considerably from Beynon's death.

It was this connection to Castle's shooting and, to a lesser extent, her mother's case, that frustrated and gnawed at Beckett. She needed answers, and right now she wasn't getting any.

"Hey guys!" Ryan called, rushing over to them with a piece of paper in his hand. "We've got another body."

"Where?"

Ryan glanced down at the paper. His eyes grew wide. "The Plaza, Presidential suite."

"The Plaza?" Beckett echoed, furrowing her brow in thought. She glanced across the desks and her eyes locked with Hank's as he came to the same conclusion.

"Ah, shit," he grumbled, turning to grab his coat.

"What?" Esposito glanced between the two.

"Amanda Beynon's alibi," Hank explained. "He was staying at the Plaza… in the Presidential suite."

"Let's go," Beckett said, spinning around and grabbing her gun, strapping it to her hip and grabbing her blazer.

"What about Greene?" Esposito asked, briefly glancing over at Captain Blye, who was still standing there with his arms crossed over his chest.

Beckett paused and raised her eyebrows, arching her neck to look at her captain. "Sir?"

He narrowed his eyes, gazing off in thought, then lowered his arms and sighed. "We'll hold him on suspicion until we know more about this," Blye decided. He glared in the direction of the interrogation room. "Plus, the guy's attitude just bugs me. Let him stew."

"Yes, sir," Beckett said with a quick nod, grinning slightly. Maybe Captain Blye wasn't so bad after all. Before anything more could be said, she quickly marched towards the elevator, leaving the bullpen with her team in tow.

XXX

After lunch, Castle slipped back into his office. Alexis seemed preoccupied with something. He wasn't sure what it was, but he hoped it had more to do with school starting back up than him. Though, if he was honest, he believed it was more of the latter than the former that was troubling his daughter. He sighed, disappointed in himself. He should really think more about how his depressing moods would affect his beautiful and amazing daughter.

Slumping down into his chair, he grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, needing something in the background to distract him from his thoughts.

The midday news was on and the anchors were discussing the upcoming elections. Castle swallowed and averted his eyes, remembering that he would usually be holding fundraising events for Bob, his friend the Mayor. But his current… condition… kind of excluded that. Not to mention the fact that he just wasn't in the mood for holding a party. He'd barely handled the launch party for  _Heat Rises_.

The talking heads on the news were talking about Presidential candidate Jimmy Howard, the current New York Senator, and how he was making great strides against the incumbent in his bid for the White House. Castle ignored it. Howard was a two decade long politician, having risen in the ranks of his party seemingly out of nowhere. The man was a master fundraiser. Castle could have sworn he had attended one of Howard's fundraisers once, but he couldn't remember. It was probably back when he was married to Gina… most of that time he'd worked on blacking out.

Castle turned his focus away from the news and back to his desk. He looked over the research books and array of notes scattered across the flat surface. He had managed to make some outlines for Marcus Munro. He smiled ruefully. He'd kind of made the man a cross between James Bond and Indiana Jones. And he was actually beginning to get a little excited about writing again, which was a vast improvement from the previous past couple of months when he had had to practically force himself to finish  _Heat Rises_. It had just been difficult for him, since in a lot of ways Nikki Heat was Kate Beckett, at least to him.

He paused, wondering what she had thought of  _Heat Rises_. Did she like it? What did she think of the ending? Castle could not help it. He craved her opinion on his latest Nikki Heat book.

"…Heat Rises  _launch party?_ "

Castle turned around, the mention of his book catching his attention. A pretty reporter was currently interviewing a man on set, both reclining comfortably in plush white armchairs.

" _Oh, it was great,_ " the man, who looked to be in his late sixties said. He had a silver mane of hair and he oozed charm and charisma in much the way that Castle had before the shooting. " _I've always been a big fan of Richard Castle, but I've particularly enjoyed this Nikki Heat character, who is based on a real life_ _NYPD detective._ "

" _Yes, Detective Kate Beckett_ ," the reporter nodded, and a photo was overlaid on the screen, showing her… and him.

Castle blinked, seeing the image of himself and the gorgeous brunette detective. Last night he hadn't really stopped to truly appreciate how she'd looked. But now, seeing one of the photos taken of them from the launch party, Castle's eyes dilated and his heart rate sped up. She was beautiful, stunning really, like she always was. And he noted that she was wearing that red dress he'd bought for her during their first year together. The very same dress she'd worn to that charity auction which they attended undercover.

Beckett was standing next to him on the stage and was slightly easing into him, his arm wrapped around her waist. And she wore a beaming smile, making her radiant and even more beautiful. It left Castle at a loss for words and kind of breathless with how joyous she looked alongside him. And Beckett looked genuinely happy in that picture, like he'd never seen her before. Like she was completely at ease standing so close to him, and having his arm around her slim waist.

His eyes flicked over to the image of himself. To the untrained eye, it looked like nothing had changed between the writer and his muse, but Castle could tell, and he was positive that anyone who knew him, the real him, could tell the difference. His own expression was more mixed than hers, a strange combination of sadness and joy. He gulped, feeling his chest tightened. All his emotions from last night's encounter started to come flooding back.

" _Did you get a chance to meet her?_ " the reporter asked, gossipy.

" _No, I'm afraid not_ ," the man replied, sighing slightly. " _But it seemed that her and Mr. Castle were having some issues_."

The female reporter nodded.

" _Anyways, I'm here to talk politics, not book launch parties, no matter how fun they may be,_ " the man smiled charmingly. " _As I was saying earlier, Howard's plan for economic recovery is the best I've heard out of all the candidates. And what makes him even more appealing is that he's decided to run as an independent. You see, Madeline, voters are tired of the bipartisan bickering. They're looking for_ _a change, for someone who doesn't owe their loyalty to just any one party, but to the people of this great nation. And that man is Jimmy Howard_."

Castle glanced down at the name of the man speaking.  _Alexander Neccos_. He racked his brain for where he recognized that name. The man himself looked familiar, so Castle was fairly sure he'd met him at least once or twice. Frowning, he glanced back at the screen. Below the graphic showing Neccos's name was a small description:  _Founder & CEO of Neccos Corp._

Ah! Now he remembered. Alexander Neccos, billionaire philanthropist. He'd met the man at some charity functions over the years. He was highly respected and didn't flaunt his wealth like some of the other elite of New York. He used his money and influence to help people. And his company was one of the most charitable as well, having actually hired more people during the downturn in the economy than laid off. Neccos was a product of the American Dream, a son of Greek immigrants, who had climbed up the ladder, making it to the top on his own skill, talent, and merit.

Castle made a mental note to include Mr. Neccos on any future charity fundraisers he held. That is, if he did do those things ever again. He sighed. He should have paid more attention to those things when he had had the strength and focus to do them. He wished he could have been more generous with his money than he had.

Sighing, he turned away from the TV as Neccos began going into more depth about the merits of Presidential candidate Jimmy Howard. Castle just wasn't in the mood for politics right now. He'd call Bob sometime, and ask him about it. He thought he remembered seeing the Mayor with Neccos last night, but he'd barely been paying that much attention when he'd mingled with the guests to his launch party.

Closing his eyes, Castle tried to clear his mind. Slowly taking deep breaths, he willed himself to focus on the creation of his new character and developing an intriguing, yet fun and adventurous tale for him.

XXX

He stood in the dim room, listening to his employer talk with someone on the phone. The Spider was annoyed. That detective, in whom Andre had been assigned to kill three months ago, was now investigating a case that connected with him. The killing was related to something on the lower rungs of the organization, but it was still connected, hence his employer's concern.

"I want him on it immediately," growled the Spider. "Yes him! Now do it, or I'll find someone else who won't complain as much." And then he slammed the receiver down, effectively ending the conversation.

The Spider scowled and rubbed his jaw irritably. "I'm surrounded by fools, Andreievich," he grumbled. "Fools!"

"We were careful, sir," Andre said. "There should be nothing to tie it back to us. We did as you said, made it look like it was the business partner."

"Did you do it?" his employer asked, narrowing his eyes. "Or could you not stomach doing it so close up and… outsourced the job?"

Andre swallowed nervously. "Sir?"

"Lockwood wasn't one of us," the Spider elaborated. "We hired him from outside the organization. He came highly recommended, but even he could not pull off what we wanted. So… what I am asking you this: Is  _he_  better?"

"Yes, he is," Andre asserted.

"He better be," growled his employer. "For what we are paying him, he better be." He sighed, and rubbed his forehead. "Meanwhile, we have to clean up this real estate mess. I've just made a call that should… slow down Beckett in the case."

"So far it doesn't appear she's made the connection yet," Andre announced.

" _So far_ ," echoed his boss, looking dubious. "She's smart. I'm sure she's got her team working secretly on her mother's case."

"We need eyes on her then," Andre said.

"Oh, we've already got eyes on her," the Spider smiled. It was a cruel twisted smile. "She's being carefully monitored, don't you worry about that."

Andre raised his eyebrows, surprised. He'd been unaware of this. He was about to ask who had been assigned with the task of watching the detective when the phone rang. His employer answered it and then frowned. Glancing up at him, the Spider waved his hand. "This will take some time, Andreievich," he said. "Why don't you go downstairs and make yourself a sandwich."

Andre knew well enough when he was being dismissed, so he bowed his head respectfully and ducked out of the room, making sure to close the door on his way out.


	14. Chapter 14

Damn. This case was turning into a headache. First Beynon's case was linked with Castle's shooting, and now this. Henry Fenton… pardon,  _Congressman_  Henry Fenton had been killed in much the same way as Peter Beynon—GSW to the head, execution style. Which, in and of itself, was not that uncommon. It was the timing of it that bugged Beckett, having occurred so closely after the Beynon murder.

Lanie confirmed that the shot had come from a similar caliber, though whether it had been the same gun that had killed Peter Beynon was still to be determined. However, Beckett was starting to get the sinking feeling that the gun found near the alley might have been a plant to lure them towards Greene.

Oh… and to make matters worse, Fenton was definitely Amanda Beynon's secret lover.

Beckett shuddered as the thought crossed her mind. She couldn't understand why Fenton would be having an affair with a plastic Barbie doll like Mrs. Beynon when he had a gorgeous wife and two small children.

Hank came up alongside her, and cocked his head as he gazed down at the body. "This is not good, is it?" he asked, glancing up at her.

She shook her head, and began pacing the large bedroom, feeling a coil of anxiety start to seep up in her gut. Something was not right about this case. At first, it seemed like a reunite pop and drop, but then it started getting all twisted and dark once Esposito and Ryan discovered the link to Castle's shooting.

"Dr. Parish, is there anything on the body that might show a link between the Congressman and Mr. Beynon?" Hank asked, letting Beckett stalk back and forth. One side of his mouth tugged upwards as he let out a thin chuckle, "Besides Mrs. Beynon, of course."

Lanie glanced up at the new guy and gave a nod. "The rope patterns along the wrists are similar. So, he had been tied up and bound," she said, slowly parting the front of the Congressman's shirt to look at this bruised skin beneath. "And I'd say he was beaten as well. You'd have to wait until I get him on my table to find out if it was done by the same guy, though I'm leaning towards saying yes."

Beckett let out a heavy breath, silently cursing and raking her fingers through her hair. This was not good. Not good at all. She felt like a noose was closing in around her neck. This damn conspiracy that surrounded her mother's death was getting out of control. If Castle had not been shot, she knew she'd probably be diving head long into this. But seeing him get shot… it had put things into prospective for her, on what was really important in her life.

But this thing, it was so big, bigger than she ever imagined. If they were willing to kill a congressman to cover this up… then, damn, she was way over her head. She probably hadn't even scratched the surface of this conspiracy. McCallister had been right. She woke the Dragon. And it scared the shit out of her.

Esposito and Ryan appeared, having done a quick canvass of the neighboring rooms, not that there were many, since this was the Presidential suite. It disgusted Beckett slightly, since the entire suite was larger than her entire apartment. She wondered how Fenton had even paid for the room, and whether he had used the taxpayers' money to do so.

"Well, he ain't getting re-elected," Ryan chuckled, trying to lighten the tense mood, something that Castle normally would have done if he had been here.

Beckett shot him a glare.

"Too soon?" he asked, looking sheepish and apologetic.

"Let's try and show some respect," she ordered, pacing back around to hover behind Lanie. She glanced over her shoulder and watched as the CSU teams continued to search the bedroom and attached ensuite. When her team had arrived, the crime scene techs were already scouring the luxurious living and dinning room in the forward portions of the suite.

"The Congressman was definitely our boy," Esposito said. "I talked with the concierge and, after some persuasion, he confirmed that Fenton was the guest that Mrs. Beynon visited the other night.

Hank crouched down beside Lanie and squinted. "Dr. Parish?"

"Yes?"

"What's this?" Hank tentatively reached out and pointed to something resting along Fenton's collar.

Beckett peered over and narrowed her eyes, trying to get a look at what it was. Lanie plucked it up with the forensic tweezers. Giving it a cursory examination, she then glanced up at Beckett, who raised her eyebrows and shrugged. From what she could see it looked like it could perhaps be a piece of fabric.

"Maybe it got torn off during the struggle," Beckett suggested with a furrowed brow, glancing around at her colleagues. They all nodded in agreement.

"Good eye, Detective " Lanie said to Hank, before turning towards Esposito, who already had a small evidence bag waiting for her.

"I'll get it to the techs immediately," Esposito said and was off, giving a nod to Ryan, who turned to supervise the CSU techs.

Hank stood and rubbed the back of his neck. "I think we can officially rule out a lover's quarrel on both homicides," he said. "This looks way too professional."

Beckett gave a stiff nod and shifted her weight on her feet—damn, her high-heels were killing her right now. Resting a hand on her hip, she surveyed the body again. From the clothes he was wearing, it looked like Congressmen Fenton had been preparing for bed. "Lanie, you got any idea on time of death?"

Lanie let out a breath. "Not yet, sweetie," she replied, giving her an apologetic look, recognizing how frustrated Kate was. "Once I get him onto one of my tables I'll be able to give you something more than a rough guess."

"Just humor me," Beckett encouraged with a slight smirk.

"Fine," Lanie let out an exacerbated sigh and added an eye roll. "From the liver tempt I took when I arrived, I'd put time of death between eleven and two. But I'll know more later, okay?"

"Okay," she bobbed her head. That time frame still allowed for Greene to be linked with this murder, even if he was not directly involved.

"Everyone stop what you are doing!" a commanding voice resounded throughout the presidential suite.

Beckett paused and glanced over her shoulder to see a group of men dressed in matching dark suits march through the hallway door. The lead man had Fed written all over him. His hair was dark and crisp; it almost looked like it had been freshly combed.

He stopped in front of her, seemingly able to tell she was the one in charge, and reached inside his black jacket—and briefly, very briefly, Beckett couldn't help but think of how Castle would have leaned over and whispered something about the Men in Black and the dangers of a Neuralizer. The Fed, however, did not pull out a Neuralizer, but instead produced his credentials.

"Special Agent Sam Arleen, FBI," he said, his tone neutral and professional. He nodded towards the man besides him.

Beckett's eyes flicked over to the other man. He appeared to be FBI as well, by the look of him. He had similar hair, dark and sharp, cut close to the scalp. He was clean-shaven, and had the air of ex-military about him. Though he looked a little too clean for Beckett's liking. When someone was that clean cut, they usually had something to hide. And there was something about his eyes… they looked cold.

Arleen introduced him, "This is Special Agent John Finch, Secret Service."

Finch reached into his jacket and produced his credentials. Beckett narrowed her eyes and noticed the white earbud in the man's right ear.

"We'll be taking over this investigation, ma'am," Finch said, ignoring her quizzical expression.

"Secret Service?" Hank raised an eyebrow. "Do you even have jurisdiction here?"

"Normally… no. But when it concerns a presidential candidate, yes," Finch answered, pointedly ignoring Hank. His focus remained on Beckett. He wasn't hiding the fact that he was assessing her.

"You're Detective Beckett?" Arleen asked, distracting her for a moment. His eyes were openly roaming over her body. Seriously? Was he trying to undress her with his eyes?  _Ugh_. She fought the urge to gag in disgust.

"Yes," she nodded, ignoring Arleen's overt ogling, and upon Finch's request, she produced her badge and credentials for confirmation. She noticed that other agents were making similar requests upon her team and the CSU techs.

"Right," Finch stepped back and issued some orders to the others, and then turned back, pausing briefly to listen to something coming through the white earbud attached to his right ear. Afterwards, he turned back to Beckett. "We're locking down this floor. Nothing in or out without our authorization."

Beckett opened her mouth to object. God, how she hated it when Federal agents would just stroll into a crime scene and take over like they were so much better than everyone else. This was her case, damnit! And there was good reason to suspect it was connected to Castle's shooting and to the Dragon.

"Detective," Finch addressed her, forestalling any protests she could make, "You, and the Medical Examiner may remain, but I'm going to have to ask the rest of your team to leave."

"What?" Ryan objected, looking back and forth between Beckett and Special Agent Finch.

Beckett narrowed her eyes and steeled her expression. "It's all right, Ryan," she said, keeping her voice firm and calm.

"But, Beckett—?" he stammered, but was interrupted by Hank, who had spotted the silent threat coming from the surrounding Secret Service agents. These guys would not take  _no_  for an answer. Ryan continued to make protests, but eventually gave up and allowed Hank to guide him out of the room.

Hank glanced back over his shoulder and Beckett gave him a silent thank you with her eyes. He gave a tight nod and then exited the room behind Ryan, who was still visibly upset. She couldn't blame him. And, not for the first time this week, Beckett genuinely felt appreciative of her new partner. He really wasn't that bad. He was no Castle, but he did his job, efficiently and competently. She couldn't really ask for more.

Special Agent Finch was standing straight, his hand pressed to his right ear. He gave a nod and brought his cuff up to his mouth and murmured a reply. When he was done, he spoke in a hushed voice with Arleen and the FBI agent nodded. Arleen turned to Beckett, informed her that now that introductions had been made, he'd be taking his leave. Though, he did provide her with his card, in case—as he put it—she "needed help in getting an open line of communication with the Secret Service." Apparently the current contingent was operating out of the FBI's New York City offices.

It was either that, or the man was trying to make a subtle pass at her. She couldn't really tell, since her mind wasn't completely focused on him. Yet, with how he had been checking her out earlier, it was probably the latter instead of the former. All the same, despite having arrived with Finch, she had been hoping that Arleen would understand her point of view better than the Secret Service Agent, after all, the FBI weren't that too separated from what the NYPD did.

However, it appeared she'd be getting no help from him. Not that she was really expecting any.

"Look, I get the whole protection thing," she said to Finch, gesturing with her hands as she spoke, a habit she'd picked up while teamed with Castle. "But really, I don't see why the Secret Services needs to get involved. Yes, Congressman Fenton was running for re-election, but he was not running for the presidency. And to be brutally honest, in the grand scheme of things, he really wasn't that important."

"That may be," Finch replied, flashing her wiry grin, the first real display that he was, in fact, human. "But, he was scheduled to meet with Governor Howard tomorrow morning.

Beckett raised her eyebrows. "I didn't know the Governor was running for President."

Lanie shot Beckett a look and shook her head, mumbling something along the lines of, "Girl, you really do need to read the newspaper or at least watch the news once in a while."

"Oh, well, I guess I can see why you'd want to investigate this then," Beckett replied, trying to sound understanding, while also ignoring Lanie's comment.

Finch paced the room as another team of Secret Service agents appeared and began searching the room in much the same fashion that the NYPD's forensics team had been doing beforehand. Beckett bristled a bit, as if it was being subtly implied that the NYPD couldn't handle the forensics work on this case.

"So," she almost snapped, pulling Finch's attention back to her, "are you going to be taking over the case completely, or are we lowly local LEOs to be kept in the loop?" Beckett crossed her arms over her chest, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Beckett couldn't care less what Finch thought of her. She'd dealt with the FBI and even Homeland Security, though she'd never had any dealings yet with the Secret Service, so she was unaware of their modus operandi, so maybe she should play it a little safer than going all badass detective on them. For a brief moment, she lowered her head and smiled sadly while thinking,  _Castle would have loved this_.

Finch paused, noticing the somber expression crossing her face. She quickly pushed back the emotion and pulled her professional mask—the one she'd worn for years before Castle came into her life—back over her feature, hiding her feelings.

"If I'm not mistaken, there are similarities here to a current open case," he said, refraining from commenting on what he'd noticed.

Her mouth dropped and she blinked. Beckett was caught off guard, and that was not something she liked. No. Not at all. Was someone in the government monitoring her team? Upon noticing her expression, Finch gave a tight grin.

"I checked up on you before coming over, Detective," he said as way of explanation. "I must say, I'm a little surprised not seeing that writer hovering behind you."

"He… he doesn't consult with us anymore," Beckett replied, narrowing her eyes, half an inch away from giving Special Agent Finch a death glare.

"Ah, yes, he jumped in front of a bullet that was meant for you, correct?" he said it like a question, but it was a statement more than anything else. Finch continued before she could respond. "With the FBI's assistance, we've connected with the NYPD's Central Crime Database servers at 1PP, and I had time to skim through some of the current case reports. I'm intrigued about the similarities I'm seeing here with the murder of…," he paused as he thought for second, "Ah yes… with Peter Beynon."

"Um… yes," Beckett nodded. "There are some similarities. But nothing else to link their deaths."

"Really?" Finch arched an eyebrow. "I'd think the fact that Mrs. Beynon was sleeping with the Congressman would be a link."

"It is," she gritted out, lowering her eyebrows, not liking how Finch was talking down to her. He was probably a jock, and thought his gender was the superior one. He did kind of give off that vibe. And she noted that all the agents under his command were male. She actually missed Arleen. He'd shown her some respect, even if he had ogled her. "However," she continued, "I don't believe it has any relevance. Mrs. Beynon freely admitted to the affair, though she hadn't named Congressman Fenton as her lover."

Finch gave a nod and then dismissed it all with a wave of his hand, pacing back over to the body. "This could cause quite a scandal, you know," he said, putting aside his strict professionalism for a moment, as if he was chumming it with the lower ranks. He then turned serious again and looked at her with determined eyes. "We'd appreciate it if you kept quiet until we've had more time to investigate."

"I can't control the flow of information, Agent Finch," Beckett snapped back, growing irritated. "The maid discovered the body. For all I know, she's already contacted the Ledger with the story. And besides," she uncrossed her arms, only to cross them again. "It's not like the Congressman's career is going to suffer from the information."

"Yes, yes," Finch relented with a nod. "Henry Fenton hardly would care, but think about Mrs. Fenton and the two little children. Think of them, and how much this would upset them during this… trying time."

Beckett sighed and inclined her head, agreeing with him on that point, however she highly doubted the man truly cared about the hurt and anguish that this news would cause the Congressman's family. "I'll do what I can, but I can't guarantee anything," she relented.

"Just do your best," Finch said with a slick smile that made her think he probably belonged more in public relations instead of in the protective/investigative detail. "Oh, and you don't have to worry about the maid talking, we've already handled that."

" _Handled_?" Beckett huffed, and glanced down to Lanie with a perplexed expression.

Lanie gave a shrugged. "Don't look at me."

"Now, about the Congressman—" Finch began.

"Are you going to take his body away too, or will I still be doing the autopsy?" Lanie questioned, not holding any punches with her sass and attitude. Oh, how Kate loved Lanie at this moment!

Finch stiffened for a moment, looking completely caught off guard with the somewhat dressing down he was receiving from Lanie. "No, that's ok," he replied, after a pause. "We'll have you do the autopsy, but I'm going to want an agent present. Nothing against you, Dr. Parish, just policy."

"I don't know if I should feel insulted or not!" Lanie shot back. "And I don't need supervision,  _Special_  Agent Finch."

"Lanie,  _shh_ , it's all right," Beckett shushed her, trying to contain the situation before it spun rapidly out of control. Lanie never did like outsiders pushing their way into her autopsy room. It was like watching a lioness protecting her territory. "We're… uh… cooperating with the Secret Service here. If they want a man present, then by all means, let them. Just focus on doing your job. Okay?"

Lanie let out a huff, but relented to Beckett's plea with a shrug and curt nod. But she still grumbled about the inconvenience of it all. "I can get my assistants and bring in the gurney to haul the Congressman away, right? Or is that against policy, too?" she groused as she made a move towards the door.

"You're fine, Dr. Parish, go get your assistants," Finch said, and then lifted his cuff to his mouth, no doubt informing his agents to let Lanie and her assistants pass.

Beckett and Lanie exchanged a look before the M.E. made her departure. Sighing, Beckett turned back to face Finch. "Look, I understand why you want to take the lead," she said, trying to sound reasonable. "But that being said, I resent the implications that we can't handle this case. For the record, I've handled way more, shall we say,  _challenging_  cases than the murder of a congressman."

"I know," Finch said, giving an informed nod. "As I said, I've perused your file."

"Then I'm in the loop?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

Finch narrowed his eyes for a moment, and Beckett had the distinct suspicion that he was receiving some instructions via that white earbud. "How about this, you work your case, the Beynon murder, and report back to me. If anything seems relevant, I'll let you know."

Beckett scowled, glaring at him. If this was what he called letting her in the loop, she loathed to discover what it was like to actually be in the loop. "Fine," she grumbled, taking what she could get. "If you don't mind, I'd now like to go confer with my captain."

Finch nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at Congressman Fenton's body. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Detective," he said.

She gave a noncommittal nod and made her exit.


	15. Chapter 15

The entire situation bugged her, gnawed at her very being, like little fish nibbling at her toes when she'd wade into the lake behind her father's cabin. It was bad enough that they'd hit a bump in the road on the Beynon case, but now to have the Secret Service try and muscle their way onto the Fenton case, just left Beckett feeling irritated. Heck, she didn't even know if the Secret Service even had jurisdiction to actually take the case over. Special Agent Finch seemed to think so.

She closed her eyes and slumped her shoulders, leaning against the back wall of the elevator. In the end, she guessed it was ultimately up to Captain Blye what they did. He'd probably call 1PP to see what they thought, and then would do that.

When the elevator doors opened onto the bullpen, Beckett pushed off and walked out, heading for her desk. Glancing at her father's watch, she sighed. She'd skipped lunch, so she probably should eat. But she wasn't hungry. Well, she was, her stomach was trying to tell her so, she just wasn't in the mood. The encounter with Finch had made her lose her appetite.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Huh?" she glanced up to see Hank hovering by the side of her desk.

"You look exhausted," her partner said, slipping down into the chair that had always been Castle's in her mind. She tried to hide the grimace on her face when he sat down, but failed. "Let me ask you something, Beckett… do you ever sleep?"

She laughed and shook her head. "Occasionally," she answered. "You?"

"The same," he shrugged, leaning back. "Some nights are easier than others."

Beckett nodded, only half paying attention. Most of her nights were long and restless. Alone in her bed, she'd often find herself thinking about Castle, and how he was. If only things had turned out differently, she would probably be sharing her bed with him now instead of pushing him away. Oh, how she wanted to share her bed with him… more than just her bed, if she was truly honest.

"Helps when you have someone to go home to, though," Hank interrupted her thoughts, giving her a wink.

She blinked, her back straightening as she glanced over at him, eyebrows knitting together as she tried to read him. Wait? Did she just hear what she thought she heard? Was… was he propositioning her? "Hank…"

"What? Oh! No, no, no…," he shook his head, eyes going wide as he noticed her expression. "God no!"

She frowned, not sure if she should feel offended or not by his reaction.

"I was… er… I wasn't implying we should…," he blushed, looking away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I was just talking is all. Sometimes the job is too much, you know, so it's nice when I go home to my wife, and I can relax and forget about the day."

"Oh…," it was her turn to blush, embarrassed at her misinterpretation. She'd been hanging around Castle far too long if she was jumping to these sorts of conclusions when people were just talking to her. "Sorry, I… um… didn't know you were married."

"Not your fault. I don't wear my wedding ring to work," Hank explained, reaching inside his pocket and pulling it out to show her. It was a simple gold band. "Cameron doesn't like it that I take it off, but she understands I do it to protect her."

"Protect her?"

"Yeah, I don't want some scumbag I'm arresting to know I'm married, that I have someone he could harm to retaliate against me," he explained his rationale. "You know, that's why I think most cops are single or, at least, try to stay single."

"Because they're worried some punk they arrest is going to follow them home and attack their loved ones?" Beckett questioned, raising a dubious eyebrow. There were far more pressing reasons why someone in their profession would try and stay unattached. She should know. She'd used all the excuses.

"Perhaps," Hank answered with a shrug. "It's hard, you know, leaving each day not knowing if I'll return that evening. I know Cameron worries a lot, but I try and reassure her. I tell you though, sometimes the worry really puts her in the mood and…" His voice trailed off as he suddenly remembered with whom he was speaking with.

Hank leaned back and swallowed nervously, giving an awkward nod as he continued. "Yeah, so… it's just nice having her there waiting for me at the end of the day. Especially with the stress that comes with the job." He paused for a moment, looking her over. "You got someone?"

"What?" Beckett blinked, lost in thought for a moment. His comment about how sometimes the worry got his wife really in the mood had unexpectedly conjured up images of her crawling into bed after a long day of work and snuggling up with Castle.

"I asked if you had someone to go home to," Hank elaborated.

"Oh… um… no," Beckett shook her head, averting her gaze. "I…" What? What did she have really? Nothing. She never had anything. Not even when she was with Josh. Their schedules always conflicted and more than half the time she always went home to an empty apartment and cold bed. She wondered why she let it drag on for so long when it was never really going to work. The only time she ever felt truly happy, since her mother died, was with Castle.

"Beckett?"

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. "No. I don't. There was a time when I thought I might… but no."

"What happened?" Hank asked, showing genuine concern and something she thought might be pity.

Beckett gritted her teeth. She didn't need pity. She had gotten herself into this mess and soon, very soon, she hoped she'd get herself out of it. "It was my fault," was all she said in response, and with a finality to her voice that made it clear she was done speaking on the subject. Hank gave a nod, acquiescing to her silent request to let the matter drop.

After that, he turned his attention to the murder board, and together they tried to come up with what to do next with the Beynon case. It was nothing like when she would theorize with Castle, where they'd bounce ideas off each other, they're own flirty banter sneaking it. With Hank, it was purely professional. There was no banter or playfulness. They were just doing their jobs.

So that's what they did.

Beckett was still positive Greene was involved with Peter Beynon's death, even if he did not pull the trigger himself. Hank agreed. He suggested they take a closer look at Greene's financials and see if doing some more digging they could find some evidence that would link him to hiring someone to do it.

Deciding on a plan of action, Hank got up and went to his desk, picking up his phone and punching the numbers to call the bank and get more detailed account statements from them. Beckett spun in her chair and rested her elbows on her knees as she leaned forward and stared at the murder board. She ran through the timeline again, and where Greene fit into it. He definitely had time to do the actual deed, but having observed him during interrogation, Beckett was inclined to believe he didn't have the guts to actually kill someone. Want them dead, yes? But kill, no.

Hank hung up his phone with a smile. "Bank's faxing Greene's full account statements, including deposits, withdrawals, and transfers," he informed her.

"That's a lot," she summed up, with raised eyebrows. "Might take us some time to go through them." She stood and stretched, thinking that if she wasn't in the mood to eat, she could still do with a dose of caffeine. "I'm going to get some coffee."

XXX

Castle emerged from his study, having noticed that the sun had begun setting. He had managed to distract himself from his own brooding thoughts about a certain detective and the lack of any relationship he had with said detective, and finally made some headway in plotting the exploits of Marcus Munro and the lovely Helen Dubois.

Physically, at least in his mind, Helen Dubois was nothing like the brunette that was constantly in his thoughts. He pictured Helen as a 30-something Cate Blanchett with flowing golden locks. So at least when he put Munro and Helen in… er… intimate situations, his mind did not immediately conjure up his detective—no… she wasn't his.

Oh… but how he wished she was.

Sighing, and pushing thoughts of Kate Beckett to the back of his mind—which was damn near impossible—Castle stepped out into the open loft, heading towards the kitchen in search of something to munch on before dinner. He planned to start writing soon. He'd done a fair good job with brainstorming the first book. He was still debating on the title, though.

As he reached the kitchen, he spotted his mother walking down the stairs, dressed in flashy attire that fit with her usual style for the dramatic. She smiled at him down at him and raised her hands above her head and did a little turn, allowing him to take in the full effect of her dress.

"Ah, Mother, good afternoon," he crooned, laughing slightly at her over the top flare, as he stepped around the island countertop to reach for the refrigerator. He paused and did a double take. "Going somewhere?"

Martha strutted over to the counter and leaned against the edge, giving him a devious smile. "I met someone at the party last night," she confessed with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Oh brother," Castle groaned and rolled his eyes, turning around to open the refrigerator to see what they had in stock. After his 'incident' last night, Alexis had dumped all the booze. So he figured he'd see what sort of fruit juices they had.

"What was that?"

Castle sighed, and spun back around to face his mother. "Who is he?"

"Just an old friend, Richard, nothing you have to worry about," Martha said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Besides, he's loaded, so it's not like he's going to try and empty my bank accounts."

"No, that was just the last guy," he smirked, remembering how his mother had come to live with him and Alexis. That had been—what?—four years ago… just around the time that he'd met…

"We're just meeting up for some drinks and maybe some dancing," Martha said, giving a shake of her hips, making her dress shimmy. He shuddered. "Don't you worry about me, Richard. I can take care of myself."

"Of that, I have no doubt," Castle chuckled, as he settled on the cranberry juice.

"So, darling, how's the new book coming along?" Martha questioned.

He glanced up to notice the way his mother was looking at him with a hint of concern and worry in her eyes. He gave a shrug and pulled a glass out of the cabinet and proceeded to pour the cranberry juice.

"I've plotted out most of it, still debating on the title," he informed her. "I plan on doing some writing, seeing how far I can get before dinner."

"Sounds good, Richard," Martha smiled, looking genuinely happy and pleased that he was writing again.

Castle smiled at her and lifted the glass to take a tentative sip. He sighed, feeling better with the taste on his tongue and the coolness of the juice as if flowed down his esophagus. "So, are you going to be back for dinner?" he asked, as he put the carton back in the refrigerator and prepared to go back to his study.

"No, I don't think so," Martha said. "So, it'll just be you and Alexis."

"Okay," he paused and frowned, averting his gaze before glancing back up at his mother. "Mother… is… is Alexis okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"I… I don't know," Castle rubbed the back of his neck and leaned against the edge of the counter. "She… seemed distracted during lunch. Do you think…," he sighed, and then continued, "that I should, I don't know, talk to her and assure her that I'm trying to get better?"

"Richard," his mother sighed, walking around the counter to face him. She placed her hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Don't worry. She understands. You did good with her. She's a smart cookie."

He nodded his head.

"Just… give her some time to… er… process everything. Okay?" Martha said, trying to reassure him. "She loves you, Richard. We both do, and it hurts not seeing you happy."

Castle sighed, and lowered his head. "I know, mother," he said. "I… I just wish that…"

"I know, kiddo," Martha replied, tugging him into a quick motherly hug. She patted his back and then pulled away, noticing the glistening of tears. Reaching up, she wiped at his eyes with her thumbs and kissed his forehead. "Stay strong, Richard."

He sucked in a heavy breath and bobbed his head. "Writing helps," he replied. "I think I'll feel better once I get cracking."

"Then do so, and I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay."

Martha gave him another hug and a quick kiss on his cheek before darting out of the loft with her normal dramatic flare, promising to not stay out too late. He smirked, grinning to himself, genuinely happy that his mother was once again going out and partying, even if he didn't know the guy. At least she was happy and having fun. Someone in this family needed to be happy.

Grabbing his glass, Castle turned back to his office and marched away from the kitchen, intent on getting lost in the world of his imagination. A world he hoped wouldn't dwell too much on a certain brunette, though he highly doubted it. She was like a drug, addictive. He could not help but think of her. He smiled sadly, and shook his head. It was time to move on, or at least try to move on. If not in the real world, then in the literary world. Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook were done; it was now time for Marcus Munro and Helen Dubois to take center stage.

XXX

"Oh, this is bad," Ryan said, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, his eyes glancing around the break room nervously as if the walls had ears and would hear everything he said and report it to the alien overlords. Needless to say, he'd become awfully skittish nowadays.

Esposito let out a grunt in response and continued working the Espresso machine. "At least we still got lead on the Beynon case," he offered.

"Yeah, but… they're going to take that from us too, aren't they?" Ryan questioned, turning his anxious eyes to Beckett, who stood off to the side cradling an almost finished cup of coffee in her hands.

She sighed and shrugged. "I don't know."

"This ain't good," Ryan mumbled to himself, scratching the back of his head. Damn was he jumpy now. Beckett made a mental note to never trust him with anything that might involve subterfuge. She trusted him with the secret, yes, but he seemed to be having way too much trouble coping with all the cloak and dagger.

"Ryan, take it easy," Beckett bit out, growing irritated with his nervous pacing. "As long as we're careful, we won't get found out." She paused and waited to see if he understood. He took a breath and gave a quick nod. "Good. Now, I'll go speak with Blye and find out just how much authority Finch has in this matter. I don't even know if he even had the right to actually kick us out."

Esposito muttered his agreement with her assessment of the situation, and Ryan merely blinked and bobbed his head, still looking far too anxious for Beckett's liking.

"Espo, do something about him, won't you?" she teasingly requested as she pushed off the counter she was leaning against.

"I'll try my best," came his reply, his lips tugging up slightly in amusement.

"Look, why don't you two help out Hank with Greene's financials—"

"What? Didn't we already go over them?" Ryan asked.

"Not all of them," Beckett said with a slight grin. "Hank managed to get the bank to send him everything they have on Greene's accounts."

"Really?" Esposito raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. "That's just… wow. Good for the new guy."

"Yeah, well, it's a lot to look over, so why don't you two go help him out, and I'll see what I can find out from Blye about Special Agent Finch and where we stand on the Fenton case," Beckett said.

Ryan gave a nervous bob of his head and took a sip of his coffee.

Throwing back the last dregs of her coffee, Beckett placed the mug in the sink and turned to leave. Gripping the handle, she paused and glanced back at her co-workers one last time, before opening the door and purposefully marching out of the break room, heading towards the Captain's office. Hank looked up from his desk as she walked past him, taking note of her destination.

"Good luck," he murmured.

"Thanks, I'm going to need it," she replied with a dry grin, and then continued on. Stopping at the door, she gave it a light tap.

"Come."

Beckett slipped in, closing the door behind her. When she glanced up she was startled to see that Blye wasn't alone. Agent Sam Arleen from the FBI was standing near the window, slightly leaning against the sill. Shaking her head, she turned and focused all her attention on the captain.

"What is it, Beckett?" Blye asked, gruff and annoyed. He still hadn't yet adjusted to the long hours involved with being a precinct captain. And it probably didn't help when he was receiving visits from the FBI.

"I take it you've been informed about the Secret Service taking over the Fenton case?" she asked, pointedly ignoring Arleen. She could already feel the guy trying to undress her with his eyes… again.  _Creep_.

Blye scowled, briefly glancing over at a smug looking Arleen. "They've got point, yes," he growled through gritted teeth. At least he didn't look happy about it, Beckett thought. "Agent Arleen, here, was kind enough to stop buy and inform me of the specifics."

Arleen took this as his signal to interrupt, which only seemed to make Blye more irritated with him. "Good evening, Detective Beckett. So very nice to see you again," he smiled at her, no doubt he believed himself to be a smooth charmer. He was anything but. She sincerely hoped that no woman had ever fell for his sleazy come-ons.

"Special Agent Arleen," she gritted out a greeting, inclining her head, trying her best to remain professional and not let her repulsion show.

"After our… meeting at the Plaza," Arleen continued on with his briefing. "Special Agent Harlson, he's the agent-in-charge, called 1PP… made it all official. Finch's got lead on the Fenton case."

"Does he now," Beckett said.

"Yes," Arleen nodded, grinning slightly, thinking he had won her over. "You see, normally the FBI would be handling this, but seeing as Governor Howard was going to be meeting with Congressman Fenton tomorrow, the Secret Service is considering this a potential threat to the Governor's safety."

"Understandable," Beckett agreed.

"Hell," huffed Blye, looking more irritable, if that was even possible. "After FBI here showed up, the Governor's office called to ensure we'd cooperate with Special Agent Finch on the investigation."

"But none of that really gives them the authority, does it?" Beckett asked.

"You'd think so, yes," Arleen said, leaning back against the windowsill. "But threats to a presidential candidate aren't taken lightly. And the Secret Service has always had jurisdiction in investigating threats of that nature." He paused and eyed her up for a moment, for once, not checking her out, though he still could be. "Believe me, Detective, when I say that there was actually a turf war between the FBI and Secret Service over who would investigate Congressman Fenton's death. But in the end, Assistant Director Lobb made the final call after speaking with the Deputy Security of Homeland Security."

 _Jesus, this went pretty high up then_ , Beckett thought, momentarily startled at the magnitude of such high-ranking officials getting involved with the death of a lowly congressman. Fenton wasn't even that big of a fish in Washington. Something was up. It almost reeked of a conspiracy, or at the very least a cover-up.

Blye nodded, somewhat reluctantly. "Secret Service is handling it, Beckett. That's final. And 1PP wants full cooperation from all departments."

"But sir, I—?" she wasn't ready to relinquish control of the case. With each kernel of knowledge it was starting to sound like this was linked to the bastards the killed her mother and had ordered the hit on her, which had then put Castle in the crosshairs. And damnit, she wanted to get them.

"I'm just repeating what I've been told by the Chief of Ds," Blye held up his hand to forestall any more argument. "Just… just deal with it, Detective. I've got enough on my plate without having to worry about you having a pissing match with this Special Agent Finch."

She could have sworn Arleen snickered at that comment. Beckett clenched her jaw tightly, but acquiesced with a nod. "Yes, sir."

"Good," Blye eyed her wearily, as if concerned she'd go against orders. Wouldn't be the first time. "Now go back to your team and clock out, it's been a long day and I want you out of my hair."

"Sir," she inclined her head, and spun around on her heels, wanting to get the hell out of that office. However, before she could make her escape, Arleen stopped her at the door, brazenly putting a hand on her arm.

"Seeing as you're—"

"Did I give you permission to touch me?" she hissed out in a low voice that held no room for compromise. In addition, she gave him one of the fiercest glares in her arsenal. Even Castle had never aggravated her enough to receive the death glare she was now sending Arleen.

He startled, releasing his grip when she yanked her arm away. She almost laughed at the terrified look on his face, but that would have been cruel. Didn't stop Captain Blye, however, from letting out a low chuckle and giving her a supportive nod of approval.

"Be careful there, boy," Blye barked out at Arleen, shaking his head. "Wouldn't want to get slapped with a sexual harassment lawsuit, now would you?"

Smirking, Beckett turned away from Arleen and pushed out of the captain's office. Once the door shut behind her, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose, glad to be done with that. When Beckett turned around, she found her team waiting for her.

"Well?" Hank asked, hitching up one eyebrow in question.

Beckett raised her hands in defeat. "Secret Service has the lead in the Fenton case," she informed them. "Orders for us to cooperate came directly from the Chief of Detectives himself."

"Ooh, I feel special now," Esposito snickered.

Beckett rolled her eyes. "Blye's just ordered us off for the night, he seems especially grouchy tonight."

"He would," Ryan said, casting a nervous look around Beckett towards the captain's office, eyeing FBI Agent Sam Arleen getting what looked like a dressing down from Blye. Oh, she really hoped the captain contacted the scumbag's superiors.

Beckett smirked. "We'll pick back up on the Beynon case with fresh eyes in the morning," she said, pushing away from the captain's office and towards her desk. "So I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Night," the boys replied, and then slinked off to close shop.

"Hey, Hank," she paused, noticing her partner was still staring down at the printouts on his desk.

"Yes?" he glanced up and raised his eyebrows.

"We're off, that means stop working and go home," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Spend the night with your wife… better yet, why don't you take her out."

Hank gave an easy smile. "That actually sounds really good right about now," he replied. "I think I just might do that. Cameron would like that. Thanks."

Beckett gave a nod and then slipped over to her desk, picking up her bag and jacket. She looked back up and offered them all a brief smile before turning away and hooking her bag over her shoulder as she walked towards the elevator.

The second her back was to them, her smile disappeared. As frustrating as the day had been, she was not exactly looking forward to what was to come next. But she'd made a promise to Alexis, and she had no intention of breaking that promise… if not for the teen, then for the man whom the teen was worried about. The man she, herself, was worried about. Richard Castle.

XXX

There was a P.O. Box at the local neighborhood post office that had always been empty. It was to be used for emergency purposes only. A man came to check it once a week. As he did today. It had become a solemn ritual for him, a promise he intended to keep, even now that the old friend he had made the promise too had died several months prior. He was a man of his word, and a promise made was a sacred thing to him. He'd never break it, even when no one knew he was keeping it.

But today was unlike any other.

Because today… the box was full.


	16. Chapter 16

_It all started with a break in._

_The local police were baffled, seeing as nothing of value had been taken. But Marcus Munro knew the truth. It had been Gavin Price, the arrogant English nobleman, known in other circles as an acquirer of rare and exquisite artifacts—a treasure hunter, for the layman. The man had always been jealous of Munro, who was far superior at finding lost artifacts._

_And then there was also Helen._

_Oh yes, Helen Dubois—Gorgeous golden hair, unbelievably long legs, and a killer body. Add in her intelligence and sharp wit, and she was the ideal catch for any man of substance. But she was no social climber, despite her high birth. And she had chosen Munro, which just irked Price to no end._

_But that was another story. This one was about the break in. Seemingly benign, but it still was the catalyst that started it all._

" _You were right, boss," Conrad said, shifting through the scattered remains of Munro's office. "Nothing was taken."_

_Conrad Bazán had been with Munro since he was an undergrad at the university. By grad school, Conrad had become his teacher's aide. And now, with his own Ph.D. and several masters, he assisted Munro in digs throughout the world. Helped too, that Munro came from means, and could afford to hop all over the world in search of myth and legend._

" _Of course not," Munro answered, leaning over to pick up one of the desk drawers that had been upended and left on the carpet. "He just needed one thing. The rest of this was just for cover. To distract from the true purpose of the break in."_

" _So if nothing was taken, what'd you think Price was after?"_

" _Coordinates," Munro said, standing up, a torn piece from an 1830s journal of an expedition into the heart of India's jungles in his hand. Oh, Munro knew exactly_ _what Price was after, and just like always, he knew that the man was only thinking of the monetary value of this priceless artifact. A smile tugged on his lips as Munro made his decision. "Conrad, pack our bags. The hunt is on!"_

Castle sat back and smiled. It was a good start. He'd polish it up a bit before submitting it to Gina, but so far, he liked it. And oh, was this fun! He'd never really written anything that was other than a crime novel. Castle had always enjoyed adventure novels. He had quite a few in his personal library: Dan Brown, James Rollins, Steve Berry, Raymond Khoury, Clive Cussler, to name a few, some of whom were more recent additions to his library than others.

He had always held a kind of respect for the writers who blended fact and fiction into a seamless narrative that enticed the imagination and offered a fun and enjoyable escape from the mundane day to day. And he was trying to capture that very same spirit.

Castle hoped he had it in him.

So far, he had the makings of a character he found he enjoyed writing, and an exciting, if not exactly plausible, storyline. He'd be asking his readers to suspend disbelief for a few moments, but really, that wasn't too much to ask for in a story like this, which had elements of the supernatural and otherworldly. Though, he promised himself he wouldn't make the mistake of having it be aliens at the end—no matter how tempting that may be.

He'd probably take some flak from his poker buddies for writing outside the genre, but he couldn't care less. This was going to be so much fun!

A knock sounded from the door and he furrowed his brow. He was busy, in the zone, and didn't want to be interrupted so he ignored it, hoping whomever it was would just give up and leave when no one answered.

No such luck. Whoever it was, was pretty determined, as they knocked again, this time much harder than before.

"I'll get it!" Alexis hollered from her room and he could hear her scrambling down the stairs.

Castle leaned back and sighed.  _Must be one of her friends_ , he thought to himself. He smiled, pleased. Alexis needed to hang out with kids her own age instead of trying to take care of her moping father. Hearing the faints sounds of hushed female chatter, Castle blanked out everything else and focused on picking up where he'd left off.

Words flooded out onto the screen as he typed, the click clack of the keyboard echoing around the room as page after page filled the screen. He lost himself in the world of Marcus Munro and Helen Dubois, though, somewhere, in the back of his mind, he couldn't help but notice how similar their banter was to that of Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook.

And Helen was starting to sound an awfully lot like a certain detective. She may not be like her physically, but her core character seemed too resonant with the same fire and spirit that had always entranced him while in the presence of the lovely Kate Beckett. In fact, it was almost like he could hear  _her_  voice calling his name.

"Castle?"

He startled and glanced up, his heart pounding in his chest as he saw her standing there, in the doorway, looking at him with those hazel-green eyes that seemed to bore right into his soul and steal his heart. Her hair tumbled around her face, which he noted was slightly flushed. Was she… blushing? No matter.

Even out of a dress, she looked as beautiful as ever. Oh great, now he had a mental image forming in his mind of Beckett wearing not a stitch. He glanced down briefly, somewhat embarrassed—for her or him, he didn't know—before calming his rapid breaths and returning his gaze to her.

Castle was struck dumb with her sudden appearance, having just been thinking of her and her alter ego. So it took a moment before he realized he hadn't answered, instead had just stared at her, probably with a slacked-jaw expression.

"Ka—Beckett," he fumbled, almost calling her  _Kate_. He swallowed past the lump in his throat as his heart raced beneath his chest. "What are you doing here?"

She stood there, awkwardly, half hugging herself as she hung her head down a little, averting her eyes. "To talk," she said quietly. "And to… apologize."

"Apologize? For what?" Castle furrowed his brow, confused. The Kate Beckett he knew rarely apologized. "If this is about last night… don't worry, I understand." He gritted his teeth, trying to be polite. He hated the thought of her leaving his party early so she could roll around in the sheets with her doctor boyfriend. The image repulsed him so much that he had to hold back the bile that rose up in his throat.

"What?" she pinched up her face in bewilderment and blinked. "No… not that… well yeah, I guess that too, but no… just for… for everything, really."

She hung her head in what appeared to be shame. He narrowed his eyes and watched as she let out a deep breath, her chest heaving as she glanced up with wide and pleading eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Castle," Beckett said, her voice so filled with emotion that he knew she was being completely sincere with him right now. "I shouldn't have distanced myself from you during your recovery. It was wrong… and… and selfish." Her voice was strained, as if she were holding back tears. "I… I should have stood by you, been there for you. I know if our roles had been reversed, you would have been by my side to help me through it."

When she finished, Beckett sighed, her shoulders slumping. He took in how she just stood there, hanging in the threshold, cautious to intrude on his privacy, yet still determined to remain and say her piece. She also looked exhausted. He briefly glanced down to the clock, noting the hour. She must have come here straight from the precinct, still dressed in her work clothes—a white blouse and dark slacks, the blazer looking a little too large on her.

Suddenly, he felt extremely rude. He quickly stood up, wincing slightly as the scar along his side pulled. He grimaced, but held back the groan. Raising a hand, he gestured towards the couch in the corner.

"Did you come straight from the precinct?" Castle asked, seeing if she'd lie or be honest.

That seemed to give her pause for a second, but then she nodded meekly.

"Please, come in and sit down," he said, watching as she heaved in a deep breath, looking up at him with an expression that resembled relief and gratitude.

Beckett stepped over the threshold into his office and walked over to the couch, sinking down into the black leather with a sigh. Castle moved around his desk and joined her, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, leaving a distance between them. It ached inside him to remain that far apart from her, remembering how warm and right she had felt pressed up against him during the launch party when the press had taken photos of them.

He needed to break the silence that had fallen between them, but he didn't know what to talk about. She seemed tense and anxious, the light in her eyes sad and solemn, and even though he was still baffled over why she was really here—not to mention how confused he still was over his own memories of his days in the hospital and the shooting—he wanted to make her feel better. One of the greatest joys he'd had in life was making her smile. And he wanted to see her smile again.

"Um… so… uh… have you had a chance to read it yet?" he asked, knowing that she'd know what he was referring too. But the moment the question was out of his mouth, he then felt like biting his tongue.  _Stupid, Rick. Stupid question to ask. Of course she hasn't had time to read it yet, you just gave it to her last night_.

"Yes," she answered promptly, interrupting his thoughts. "I… I should confess. I already had a copy."

He looked up at her, surprised. The book just went on sale this morning, how could she already have a copy?

"I don't want to get her into trouble, but… Alexis, she… um… she made sure I had an advance copy," Beckett answered his unspoken question.

Castle gave a small smile, happy that his daughter had been handling things while he recovered and moped around. "That's good. So… er… what'd you think?"

Her eyebrows knitted together and her nose wrinkled in the most adorable little way as she thought about her answer. He couldn't help but soften his gaze as he watched her. God, he was so in love with her. He just wished he'd figured that out sooner, and had the courage to tell her.

"The dedication was nice," she started off.

"I thought it was appropriate," he said, thinking of Montgomery. As far as Castle was concerned, Montgomery's sacrifice of himself to keep Kate safe had redeemed him of all his past failings. Because no matter how he stacked things up, whatever mistakes the man had made, Montgomery had put it all on the line for Kate, and for that Castle would forever be grateful.

She nodded. "And that ending… it must have been hard for you to write?"

He gave a noncommittal shrug, trying to act like it had been no big deal, even though it had. At the time, his writing had been the only way he could express himself, so he did to his alter ego what had been done to him.

"A little too close to reality, though, don't you think?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and trying, but failing, to give him a teasing grin.

He just shrugged again, desperately trying to be nonchalant about it. "I really couldn't figure out a better ending. And it just seemed right with how the characters were progressing. Nikki needed something big to happen to make her realize just how important Rook was to her, so…" his voice trailed off and they found themselves once again settling into a period of awkward silence.

Beckett shifted uncomfortably on the couch, glancing over at him, slowly worrying her lower lip. She was high-strung, he could tell, probably just as apprehensive as he was over seeing each other once again after what had happened last night, not to mention the long three months apart. His chest felt tight, and Castle didn't know what to do. All he knew was that he wanted to get this conversation over with as soon as possible. He was finding it difficult to be so close to her and not knowing where they stood.

"So… um… was there something else?" he asked, licking his lips as he glanced over, trying to force the awkwardness away and break the silence.

"I broke up with Josh," she blurted out, then seemed to deflate with relief at finally having said it.

"I… I'm sorry?" he knitted his eyebrows together, not meaning for it to come out as a question, but it had. Honestly he didn't know how to feel about this or, for that matter, what she expected him to say. "When?"

Beckett let out a sigh and raked her fingers through her long hair. For a moment, Castle was mesmerized by the fall of her long brunette tresses as they cascaded back into place around her neck and shoulders.

"It was before Montgomery's funeral," she answered him, biting her bottom lip. That was her tell. He'd played enough poker with her to know. She was holding something back, not necessarily lying, but omitting something.

"Oh," was all he said in response. Really? What else could he say? 'Before Montgomery's funeral' could mean anything. She didn't say, 'right before', just 'before'. He decided to let it slide, for now. "Um… may I ask why?"

Beckett shrugged and gave him a helpless look. "I really liked him. I did. But it wasn't enough," she answered. He didn't know how to take that. She paused, assessing him for a moment. "You see, after my mother died, something inside me change. It's like I built a wall inside. I don't know… I guess I didn't want to be hurt again like that. It… it was easier to keep people away than risk letting them in only to get hurt again. But… Castle, you were right."

"Huh?" he frowned, confused.

"The night… when you came to my apartment," she took a deep breath. This was clearly difficult for her. He knew what she was referring to—their fight. The fight that probably broke them. The fight that convinced him that he was most certainly, without a doubt, in love with her, yet was incapable of saving her from herself. A lot had been said, by both of them, some that he regretted, some that he didn't. He wondered briefly if she, as well, regretted anything said that night.

"You were right," her shaky voice pulled him out of his brooding thoughts. His eyes snapped up and he stared at her, her posture hesitant and nervous. "You were right," she repeated through a long breath. "I've been so wrapped up in my mother's death that I've let it take over, have let it define me as a person, so much so that I'm afraid of who I am without it."

His own words, turned back on him in her own explanation for her behavior and personality. Castle couldn't stand hearing her say these things now, when it seemed like it was coming too late. "Kate…," he interrupted, wanting her to stop.

She didn't need to do this.  _They_  didn't need to have this conversation all over again. It had broken them then, and he didn't want that. Even if he didn't really know what they were right now. She'd said they were over, so he had no clear idea where they stood. It was confusing enough with his hazy memories of his time in the hospital.

"No," she snapped angrily, shaking her head, eyes determined. "I need to say this, Castle. I need to get it off my chest." She paused, giving him an apologetic look for her retort. He blinked and gave a slight nod, accepting it. She waited to see if he'd try to object again, but he didn't. "You were also right when it came to my relationships," she continued, her voice wavering for a moment. "I  _do_  hide in nowhere relationships… with men I don't love. I've probably been doing it my whole life."

Castle swallowed, looking at her with confused eyes. What was she trying to say?

"So, yeah," she laughed sadly, averting her gaze. "I guess that's why I broke up with Josh."

"I'm sorry, but I'm… I don't know if I'm really following," he said, completely baffled as to this whole conversation. What the hell was going on? This was nothing like the Beckett he knew. The Beckett that closed herself off and stayed aloof, refusing to talk about such things with him. He had to practically pry out the details of her mother's murder from her, and even then he'd been given hell for it. Now she was just giving information away… for free? It didn't make sense.

"I didn't love him," she exclaimed, as if it was obvious. "I never did. All I did was like him. I never loved him. I think…," she paused to swallow, her brow creasing as she thought, "I think I liked the idea of having a relationship more than actually having the relationship… if that makes any sense?"

Castle smirked self-deprecatingly, and gave a nod. "It does," he replied, knowing exactly how she felt.

He could say that exact thing when it came to his relationship with Gina… both times. The first time, because he wanted Alexis to have a mother, and because he was lonely. And the second time was because Kate was with Demming and he didn't want to get in her way, so he tried Gina again. She was familiar and he knew what he would get with her. But in the end, she wasn't enough. No one would be enough, especially after he'd fallen for Kate. It didn't matter that he'd never had her, tasted her, or been with her in that way. She had already stolen his heart, even if that was never her intention.

"So yes, you were right, I run away and I hide," she said, continuing. "I'm terrible at relationships."

He smiled ruefully. "You're telling me, of all people!" he chuckled, referring to his own not to good track record. She laughed too, and it was beautiful. She smiled at him, a glimmer of their former selves sprinkling through. And then she reached out and grabbed his hand, breaking the spell and stunning him into silence.

"I'm sorry, Castle," she said softly, giving his hand a gentle and friendly squeeze, but didn't let go. "I'm so sorry. About… about everything. And we're not over… God, we're not over! We're not. If… if you can forgive me, not just for some of the terrible things I said to you that night, but for… for the past thee months, I still want you in my life because…" she paused, swallowing and averting her gaze for a second, "because I care about you."

Castle felt his heart stop, at least that's what it felt like. His hand was burning from her touch, but in a good way. He swallowed and realized he wasn't breathing, so he quickly opened his mouth and filled his lungs with much needed oxygen, letting her words permeate and take hold.

This was probably the closest he'd probably ever get with her, at least until she found closure or sorted out her priorities. He wasn't kidding himself. Castle knew it would take time. But he was willing to wait. If her love was the reward at the end of the tunnel, he'd wait. It wasn't what he wanted, but for now, it was enough.

"So…," she paused, glancing up at him. "Are we good?"

He gazed at her, watching as she worried her bottom lip. She was nervous. Castle took a deep breath and gave a slight nod of his head, squeezing her hand. "We're good. I'm still mad, but… we're good."

Beckett sighed with relief, nodding that she understood his anger, and smiled at him, that dazzling smile that melted his heart. Castle leaned back into the couch, realizing for the first time how tense he had been holding his shoulders. He let them relax, releasing a sigh.

"So, last night, that phone call… it wasn't from Josh?" he asked tentatively, remembering how their 'reunion' at the launch party had been interrupted by the ringing of her cell.

"Huh? Oh… right, that," Beckett said, raising her eyebrows. "That was Esposito, he… um… had some important information on a case."

"Oh," he sighed, now feeling suddenly embarrassed for how he had reacted. "I guess I made an ass of myself."

"What? No, you didn't, Castle," she said, squeezing his hand again. "You don't have anything to apologize for. I didn't give you any reason to think otherwise, and that's my fault not yours." She gave his hand another squeeze and she smiled sheepishly at him. That's when he realized that they were still holding hands, and that their fingers were suddenly intertwined.

"Kate?"

"Yes?"

"So does this mean I'll get that sponge bath now?"

She snorted out a laugh and gave him a glare while she swatted his shoulder playfully. "In your dreams, Castle."

They both laughed, and it felt, if just for a moment, that things were back to normal. Obviously a lot of work needed to be done for them to get there, but perhaps they could be friends again… for a while. Because being friends with Kate Beckett was only going to do it for him for just so long. He needed her to be more than a friend, and he dearly hoped that when they got there, she'd want that too. At least, for the moment, he now knew that she did genuinely care about him.

The lighthearted moment passed quickly and they fell into a comfortable silence that was no longer plagued with awkwardness. Beckett retrieved her hand and it now rested with her other in her lap. The space between them returned to how it had been when they had first sat down. There was a rift between them, that much was certain. Three months would do that. But Castle was positive that it wouldn't be there forever. She'd done this… reached out to him and bared her soul in a way she'd never done before. And for that, he was extremely grateful.

Flicking his eyes up, he truly looked at her for the first time since she had arrived, and looking past the fact she was still dressed in her work clothes, he was shocked to see how thin she was. A knot twisted in his stomach as he thought of her not eating. He knew she had a tendency to skip meals. It pained him to see her do that to herself. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, and brushing back some lingering doubts on whether it was truly wise to get his hopes up by allowing her back into his life, Castle made an impulsive decision.

"Stay for dinner," he offered, his voice soft and inviting, with a hint of hopefulness added in.

He swallowed and watched her.

No matter how he'd felt at the beginning of this long overdo conversation, Castle was no desperate for it not to be over and for her to stay. He was the moth, and she his flame. Yeah, he'd been burned, and would probably be burned again, but he found he didn't care. He wanted her to stay. He wanted her. After all, he loved her, and even if she wasn't ready for that yet, someday, she might. And he was intent on being there when it happened… when that damn wall came down.

She looked at him, her eyes large and expressive, yet still completely unreadable. Kate Beckett was a mystery to him, she'd always been. He knew just enough about her to sneak past the edges and get glimpses, but beyond that, she was still gloriously enigmatic.

Beckett averted her gaze for an instant, and Castle stilled his breath, believing she would decline. But then a shy smile touched her lips, a little tentative at first, but determined and committed. "Thanks. I'd love to," was her response. And the warmth and happiness in her voice, not to mention the words she chose to express her agreement to his invitation, both startled and pleased him.


	17. Chapter 17

So she stayed.

But she stayed for more than just dinner.

The minute he offered, she could hardly refuse, not just because she really was starving—having skipped lunch, and several other meals—but also because she didn't want the night to end, not after finally reconciling some of the things between them. There was still a lot to discuss and do until they could reach the point she so badly wanted to go with him. Bridges needed to be repaired, and chasms crossed. But she was more certain now, than before, that they would make it, that together, they could find their forever.

So yeah, she stayed. And not just because she was legitimately hungry.

Dinner with Castle—and Alexis—was interesting, to say the least. At first, Kate had thought that it was just going to be the two of them, having become so focused on _them_ , that she had forgot that it had been Alexis who had opened the door and admitted her into the Loft. Though, to be honest, she didn't mind having Alexis there. The teen's presence sort of acted like a kind of buffer from sensitive topics, leaving the conversation open and light. She filled him in on the precinct and the boys, on how the new captain was a pain in the ass, and tried to cover some of the more unique cases she'd worked during their three-month separation.

Meanwhile, Castle talked about his physical therapy in the Hamptons, making it sound like it had been a slapstick comedy, instead of the grueling drama it had probably been. Kate knew all too well he'd had several panic attacks while at his beach house, having been informed so by Alexis. She could still vividly recall the teen's shaky and worried voice when Alexis had called her, asking for advice.

"So, anything new at the precinct? Besides the new captain, and all that," Castle asked as she finished the last of her lasagna. "I bet the boys missed me."

Kate swallowed and looked at him, a slow smile formed on her lips. She was probably gazing longingly at him, but she didn't care. "Yes, they do," she said, her voice low and earnest, and so very meaningful. Castle's eyes widen ever so slightly, letting her know that he knew what she was really saying: _I missed you_.

And they stayed like that for an awkward moment, staring into each other's eyes. Kate wanted to say so many things, but now was not the time, especially with Alexis shifting uncomfortably in the seat across from her. Eventually Kate blushed and averted her eyes, subconsciously glancing down at her father's watch, noting the time.

"Wow, it's late," she startled, standing up. "I… I really should go. I've got an early day at the precinct tomorrow." _And I no longer get free coffee in the morning_ , she mentally added to herself.

"Oh," Castle looked so disappointed that she had to leave, but he gave an understanding nod, seeing the time for himself. He knew her work hours and how she rarely got any sleep. Her high intake of caffeine was a testament to that. "Yeah… um… wait here for a second."

She inhaled a quick breath and gave a nod, rubbing her hands nervously on her thighs. Castle got up and darted over to the kitchen.

"He's better," Alexis piped up in the silence that had fallen over them when Castle left the table.

"What?" Kate blinked and turned her attention to the teen.

Alexis gave a shrug. "Just… since you've been here," she tried to elaborate, apparently struggling with how to explain it. "He looks happier. More… more like how he was… before."

Kate smiled weakly. "I hope so, Alexis," she said. "And… and I want you to know, this isn't a one-time thing. I… I plan on stepping it up, so to speak. Making more of an effort to stop by and just… I don't know... spend some alone time with him." Her eyes grew wide at how that might have sounded. "Not meaning that we'd be…" Oh, now she was blushing with embarrassment. She glanced over at Alexis with a helpless look.

She just smirked, looking highly amused. "Don't worry, Kate, I know what you meant," Alexis said. "Though… if you wanted too… um… you know… 'take things to the next level'," she did air quotes with that, grimacing slightly as she did so, "you have my blessing."

_Oh God! I'm not having this conversation with his daughter, am I?_ "Uh… thanks, I guess?" she frowned, totally uncomfortable with where they'd ended up in their little talk. "To be honest, Alexis, it might take us some time to get… _there_ ," she hedged, not really wanting to talk about this sort of thing with Castle's daughter.

The two of them were close, yes, closer than they had been before Castle had been shot, but they weren't that close to have this discussion… yeah… not yet. Maybe never. Kate didn't think she'd ever be ready to have a sex talk with Alexis, especially if the sex involved herself and Castle. It… it was just so wrong, and disturbing too. Not that she didn't want to have sex with Castle. She did. But, she just didn't want to discuss it with his daughter. Though, it was kind of nice, and strangely reassuring, that Alexis approved of them becoming more than friends.

"Don't worry, Kate, I'm not asking for details… that's just gross," Alexis shuddered. "I'm just saying, you don't have to feel like you have to wait."

Kate bobbed her head in appreciation. She understood what Alexis was saying. But she knew things weren't that easy. "Thanks, Alexis," she said. "But, there's a lot of damage to repair… some bridges to mend, so to speak. I think we've both made some headway tonight, but there is still more to do. And I'm going to work in it. I am."

"I know," Alexis sighed, looking relieved more than anything else. "I just wanted you to know that I'm not opposed to you and my dad becoming… um… romantically involved."

"Okay… this conversation has just now officially become the most embarrassing one I've ever had," Kate asserted, cracking an anxious grin.

Alexis pursed her lips and nodded. "Yeah… um… same here," she admitted, her pale skin turning scarlet as she fully registered what their talk had been alluding to. "More so than when Dad tried to explain the birds and the bees to me."

"What's this about birds and bees?" Castle swooped back in, grinning from ear to ear, as he shot them all a pout at the delicious conversation he believed he just missed out on.

Kate gave a nervous laugh. "We were just discussing the factual errors you provided Alexis during your birds and the bees talk," she said, flashing him a teasing smile.

"How intriguing," he quirked up an eyebrow like Mr. Spock. "And what lies, pray tell, have you been filling my sweet innocent daughter's head with."

"Oh, Dad, I'm not _that_ innocent," Alexis scoffed and then stilled, eyes going wide.

Everyone froze and Castle's eyes just seemed to bug out of their sockets as he stared at his daughter with a slightly horrified expression.

"Did... did I just say that out loud?" Alexis nearly whispered, the discomfort and embarrassment resounding loudly in her voice.

"I think you did, yes," Kate inclined her head, feeling for the girl's mortification. She remembered a similar situation with her own father when she was about Alexis's age, maybe even a little younger.

Alexis turned scarlet and shifted uncomfortably. "You know what? I think I'll do the dishes," she said, and hurriedly stacked all the plates and rushed away. "Yeah… that's what I'll do."

Castle chuckled and shook his head, though Kate did notice a little bit of concern still in his eyes. She sighed and reached out, touching his shoulder to regain his attention. He stilled the moment she touched him and she held her breath, hoping she hadn't overstepped by touching him. She watched as he gulped and slowly turned to face her, his eyes flirting up to hers.

"Don't worry, Castle," she reassured him, giving him a tight smile. "I'm sure she just means knowing, not doing."

"You think so?" he asked, looking so hopeful that she was right.

She swallowed and shrugged. "She's a good kid, Castle," she asserted. "She knows what's safe and what isn't. If she was like me at that age, trust me, then I'd tell you to worry."

That did it. She'd distracted him now from his worry over his little girl who was fast becoming a young woman. Kate watched with some degree of satisfaction as his eyes grew dark with thoughts of Kate Beckett's youthful wild days that she'd teased him mercilessly about over the years, knowing fully well that she wasn't as wild as she had led him on to believe. That being said, her comment still stood.

Frankly, Kate was glad Alexis wasn't like her when she was a teenager. She had made so many mistakes back then that she just wanted to forget about it. Hell, she was still making mistakes and she was an adult. However, Kate was currently trying to rectify one of those mistakes.

"Castle?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, sorry, got a little distracted there for bit," he tried to smirk, adding in a wiggle of his eyebrows for good measure. She could see he was still a little apprehensive, especially when he continued to cast worried glances towards where Alexis was scrubbing the dishes in the kitchen.

"Don't I know it," she rewarded him with one of her glares, trying to lighten the mood and give him something else to focus on. And maybe also trying to work them back into their normal banter.

"So," Castle licked his lips nervously, and continued onward, "this is for you." He was shoving a Tupperware container into her hands.

"Um… what's this, exactly?" she asked, taking it from him and giving it a cautious examination. It was still warm.

"Leftovers… from tonight," he offered with a smile. "Figured you could use them more than us."

"You feeding me now, Castle?"

"Someone has too," he said with a pointed look.

Kate sighed and rolled her eyes, reluctantly agreeing. "Okay, I get it, I need to eat more," she shook her head and cast him a smile, slowly running her lower lip under her teeth as she clutched the plastic container in her hands. "Thanks, Castle… it's actually really sweet of you to care."

Castle stared at her for a moment, before a smile brightened his face and he parted his lips in a gentle sigh. "Always."

Her breath caught in her throat, hearing him say that word. _Their_ word. She hadn't thought they'd gotten that far yet, for him to say that to her. And by the look on his face, Castle was just as surprised as she was that he'd said it. She cautiously watched as he swallowed, wondering if he'd say something to take it back, but he didn't. He meant it. She knew he did. She could see it in his eyes, even if he hadn't intended to actually say it out loud. The impulse to say such things to her must be high, if he couldn't control himself.

Kate let out a relieved sigh and rewarded him with a quick smile, one that she hoped conveyed more than just a friendly gesture. She'd never admit it, but it was nice to hear him say that to her again, almost as if it was confirmation of his confession of love when he thought he was dying that day in the cemetery.

He gestured to the door and they both walked forward in a quiet silence that she had thought would have been unpleasant and embarrassing. But it wasn't. The silence between them was comfortable and warm. They might not be back to where they had been, but Kate was positive the love was still there.

At the door, she stopped and turned around to face him. He looked apprehensive, his eyebrows half raised in anticipation.

"This was nice," Kate spoke softly, a little nervous.

She didn't really want to say goodbye, but she knew it was probably best if she left. So, before she could change her mind, she leaned forward and clumsily kissed him on the cheek. As she pulled back, Kate immediately blushed at her ineptitude. _What's the matter with me? I'm acting like a schoolgirl with her first crush_.

Before she could let the embarrassment, and the blush that accompanied it, take full effect, she glanced back up at him, and smiled. "We should do this again."

Castle's breath hitched up and he looked at her in stunned silence. He gulped and bobbed his head. "Yeah… we… we should."

Kate smiled at him, and squeezed his arm in a friendly and reassuring way, letting her hand linger longer than what was probably appropriate, but she couldn't care less. She wanted him. She really did. But she knew they had to take things slow and bridge the rift that had sprouted up between them because of the three months they'd been apart. It was almost like last summer all over again, except this time, neither of them were awkwardly avoiding the issues that had caused the rift between them.

"Look," she brushed some hair back, wanting more than just tonight. "Depending on how tomorrow goes…," she hesitated for a second, slowly running her lower lip under her teeth. They've just reconciled, so Kate was unsure about this, but she wanted so badly to see him again… as soon as possible. So, taking a quick breath, she pushed back any unease and just went with it. "How about we meet at Remy's for lunch. I... um… I can fill you in on my current case, and we… continue to catch up and such."

"That…," he paused, glancing back at his daughter before returning her gaze and giving her a hesitant smile. "That sounds good, yes."

"Good," she let out a breath and her smile grew, and before she could stop herself, Kate blurted, "It's a date, then!"

Castle startled and almost tripped on his feet. Even though she'd gone completely red with embarrassment at her sudden exclamation, Kate still tentatively reached out to steady him, but he was able to retain his balance on his own. He swallowed, and his eyes flicked up to her, an amazed look on his face.

"A… a _date_?" he echoed, asking for confirmation.

Kate let out a breath, and swallowed nervously. But when she thought about it, it was right. That was what she wanted it to be. She wanted that so much. And maybe, starting things off like this would be good for them. They'd spent years dancing around the issue. It was about time one of them just stepped it up and grabbed for it, damn the consequences.

"Yes, Castle," she smiled at him, feeling the hints of a blush on her cheeks. "A date. You. Me. Lunch. You got a problem with that?" Kate quirked up an eyebrow, internally holding her breath to see how he'd respond. She was trying to make her intentions very clear. Hell, she'd never been so forward before with a man. Then again, she'd never wanted a man like she wanted Richard Castle.

"No… no problem at all," Castle answered with a sly but happy grin.

"Good," Kate smiled. "Then, I'll call you tomorrow."

"Until tomorrow, Detective," Castle pursed his lips and smiled at her, a familiar twinkle in his eye.

"Night," she replied, and then opened the door, glancing over her shoulder one more time before walking down the hallway and towards the elevator.


	18. Chapter 18

He stood there, in the doorway, and watched as she walked towards the elevator. She glanced back as she pressed the call button and smiled at him. His heart fluttered in his chest at the truly radiant expression on her face every time she smiled. It was over too quickly, because the elevators were running faster than normal, and soon the doors were parting and she was gone.

Castle closed the door and let out a breath he had not realized he'd been holding in. His forehead came to rest against the hard wooden surface and he closed his eyes, trying to wrap his brain around everything. Did that just really happen? Had Kate Beckett, the woman who disappeared on him for three months, just ask him out for lunch? On… a date? It certainly sounded like that… and, from the way she smiled and looked at him, it sounded more like a date than just two friends meeting up for lunch.

Not to mention she'd kissed him. Yeah, not on the lips, but on the cheek—that had to count for something. His hand came up to gently touch the skin that had felt her soft lips. His chest clenched with feelings and emotions he'd been trying to bury and forget. It might not have been the kiss Castle wanted, but still… it was a kiss. One she gave him of her own accord. That was something Kate Beckett just didn't do unless she planned to follow through.

Taking a cleansing breath, he pushed off from the door and turned back to see his daughter standing behind the kitchen island countertop, eyeing him with a curious hopeful stare. She gave him a warm and bright smile.

"So… what did you two talk about?" she encouraged, looking far too interested.

"Um… she asked if I wanted to meet up with her for lunch tomorrow," he answered, swallowing past the disbelief in his voice. It was still kind of mind-boggling that Kate Beckett had suggested they get lunch. That had always been his thing to do.

When she had invited him to do something, it had usually been a result of him either manipulating or tricking her into doing so. Like when he sneakily hoodwinked her into taking him to the Angelica to watch  _Forbidden Planet_. He wondered if Beckett knew he'd been lying about never seeing it. Judging from the sparkle in her eyes as she described the movie to him, and her knowing smile, she probably did. Yet, she still took him to the show and paid for his ticket and popcorn.

"So you going, then?"

"Huh?" Castle blinked, pulled out of his ruminations by his daughter's hopeful gaze.

"If she calls you to go out to lunch, will you go?" Alexis asked.

Castle swallowed, hesitant to make a decision. "Maybe," he shrugged, "if I'm hungry."

" _Really_?" Alexis quirked up an eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest and gave him her best imitation of a Beckett glare.

"Fine,  _if_  she calls, I'll probably jump at the opportunity," he surrendered, waving his hands in the air. "Happy now?"

"If you're happy, then I'm happy!" Alexis chirped, and then bounced around the kitchen island countertop to meet him halfway, stopping to pull him into a quick hug. Leaning back, she placed her hands on his arms, gently caressing them. Her eyes flicked down for a moment before she spoke in a quiet voice. "You really like her, don't you, Dad?"

Castle paused and looked at Alexis with a critical eye, trying to deduce why she seemed so pushy and insistent that he go out to lunch with Beckett. His daughter had never really interfered in his romantic life. She'd made her opinion known about some of his…  _liaisons_ , to be kind… but never had she seemed so invested in knowing what his intentions were with a woman. She'd been slightly concerned when he got back with Gina for a short time last year, but other than silently expressing those concerns, she hadn't really said much.

He sighed, and slumped his shoulders in defeat. Was he that obvious? Yeah, he guess he was. The books he wrote were telling enough. Anyone who knew them personally could see just how alike Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook where to Kate Beckett and Rick Castle. At least, in some aspects. He knew most of what he wrote was fiction. But it was kind of painfully obvious whom the two characters were based off of. Hell, he even had Rook have an actress mother… how obvious could he get? It's just that their fictional alter egos weren't stupid, ignoring their mutual attraction for one another.

"Dad?"

Castle blinked and glanced up at his daughter.

"Okay, fine, you're right," he grudgingly admitted, pouting. "I like her, yes, for a while now. Probably more than I should."

Alexis shook her head at him knowingly, but he missed it, as he was looking away. She placed her hands on his face. "If you really do like her, then don't screw it up like last summer, okay?"

Castle took in a shaky breath. He had so much regret over that parting. But she'd been with Demming, and he hadn't wanted to be a third wheel, so he'd bowed out gracefully in defeat and made his exit… with Gina—ugh... he still couldn't believe he'd tried that again. It was doomed to failure from the very beginning.

"Dad?"

"No," he asserted, as confidently as he could. "I won't. This time… I'm not giving up. This time… I'm fighting for her!"

"Now there's my Dad!" Alexis cheered, and hugged him tightly.

Castle grinned and wrapped his arms around his wonderful daughter, returning her embrace with everything he had. She was right. This was him. The real him. The one who fought for what he wanted and didn't give up. Richard Castle liked a good challenge, and Kate Beckett was the greatest challenge in his life, besides raising a daughter all by his lonesome.

And he was feeling better. Castle could feel it inside. The emptiness that had lived in the hollow place of his heart was filling again. He felt lighter. Freer. It was amazing, this feeling. He truly was feeling better, more so than he'd felt when he woke up this morning and had a panic attack in the shower.

Feeling rather playful, Castle lifted Alexis up in his arms and spun her around as he hugged her even more tightly. She squealed in surprised and tugged harder around his neck to prevent herself from falling. He couldn't keep it up too long, however, not like he used too. His chest expanded and the scar on his side started to ache, so he put her back down on her feet, a little winded.

She giggled softly and patted his shoulders. "Jeez, Dad, you're getting old," she laughed.

He harrumphed at that and shook his head. "Now, why don't we watch a movie or something?"

"Oh, good idea, I'll make popcorn," she bounced off cheerfully and he smiled, pleased to see his daughter happy once again.

XXX

Kate let herself into her apartment, her heart still pounding under her breast, like a rabbit on the run. But she wasn't running. No. Not this time. No more. She was done running. And she hoped that she had made that crystal clear to Castle tonight. Her intentions weren't probably that overt, but subtly was their game, and she believed she'd said and done enough that he would understand that she wanted him. At least, she hoped so. They'd dealt with enough subtext together to drive any sane person over the edge.

Getting her breathing under control, she dropped her keys into the bowl on the credenza by the front door and made her way around to the refrigerator to deposit the leftovers Castle had given her. Pursing her lips, she smiled dreamily. It actually was really sweet of him. He'd always been like that. Providing her with coffee in the morning, and the occasional bear claw. Oh, how she missed hearing the elevator ding and then turning to see him appear with two cups of coffee.

After seeing to the care of the leftovers, Kate spun on her feet, biting on her lower lip as she tried to suppress the wild grin that wanted to take over. She was charged, and full of energy. If Alexis hadn't been there, she might have actually kissed him, not her clumsy cheek-kiss but a full on the mouth kiss… with tongue. Yeah. With tongue. She wanted to taste Castle, to claim him, to steal his breath away.

Before her thoughts could entirely spiral to the gutter, Kate shrugged out of her blazer, letting it fall where it would on the floor as she made a beeline for the couch.

Finally letting go of her restraint, Kate smiled widely at her own personal achievement as she flopped down onto the cushions, allowing herself to feel carefree for a moment. To be honest, she felt a little giddy and lightheaded. She'd never been that bold when it came to a man, and it actually felt kind of good. It really did. Especially when the end goal she was aiming for was Richard Castle.

There had been an undeniable attraction since the beginning, that much was sure. But Kate knew that she hadn't started to truly fall for him until some time during their second year together. However, life had put up obstacles, and he had still been somewhat immature and philandering. Though, it hadn't taken her that long to recognize that he wasn't really the womanizing playboy that the press made him out to seem. The Castle she grew to know was nothing like his public persona. He was kind and sweet, generous and loving. He may have griped about his mother at times, but she knew he loved her. He was a good son, and an amazing father, and that was the real him, the one she fell for.

Fell hard.

She pulled her feet off the floor and shifted, stretching herself out on the couch, searching for a more comfortable position as she continued to contemplate everything. When she really thought about it, all the time wasted in denial, Kate had to admit that if it hadn't been for that time, she probably wouldn't be here now. She  _needed_  to have dated Josh to realize what she truly wanted. And doing that, though as drawn out as it had been, had opened her eyes to what it was that she really wanted in a relationship, and whom she wanted.

Turning on to her side, and curling up with her favorite pillow, Kate smirked triumphantly as she remembered Castle's stunned expression when she had kissed his cheek and offered to take him out for lunch the next day. She couldn't blame him for being surprised. It had surprised her as well.

After some time, she sat up and climbed off the couch, standing up and stretching, releasing a soft sigh as she ran her fingers through her hair. Pursing her lips into a tight smile, Kate headed towards her bedroom. Once her gun and badge were safely secured in the nightstand drawer by her bed, she began slowly stripping herself of her clothes. What she needed right now was a long hot bath to help release some of the pent up sexual tension she was feeling.

Down to her bra and panties, Kate entered her bathroom and turned the handle, starting the water. She held her hand under the spray until it started to warm, and then she turned back to her sink, rinsing her make-up off. As the tub filled up, she went back into her bedroom, stopping by her bedside cabinet to retrieve  _Heat Rises_ , deciding she should re-read Castle's latest Nikki Heat to further understand his current mindset.

The ending still troubled her, and she knew that at some point they would have to discuss it, but at least it appeared he hadn't completely given up hope. His eyes weren't as light as they were before the shooting. She was determined to change that. And, from what Alexis had said tonight, Kate was beginning to suspect that perhaps she was the only one that could pull Castle out of the abyss of depression.

And if she was going to start repairing some bridges, she needed to find out what damage had been done. And Nikki Heat was a perfect place to start. Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook were her and Castle, just slightly modified, but it was still them, in a manner of speaking.

Natalie Rhodes had not been the first to allude to the Nikki Heat books as love letters written to her by Castle—Lanie had done the same at one point. Kate had been embarrassed about the attention she'd received after  _Heat Wave_  had come out, not to mention all the looks and jokes she heard around the precinct. But in the end, she found that she was rather pleased with how Castle had portrayed Nikki Heat. She was strong and independent, but still flawed and vulnerable. She was the perfect character, and Kate had to admit, she was a little flattered that Nikki was based off of her.

And it was through his writing, Kate was certain, that she'd discover what needed to be done. Because when she really thought about it, Nikki Heat was just more subtext. And if there was one thing  _they_  were perfect at, it was ignoring the issue and talking in subtext.

XXX

For the longest time all he did was stare at the package. The handwriting was unmistakable. He knew whose hand had quickly jotted down the P.O. Box number and address in that dark marker. And he knew the reason why it had been sent. There would only ever be one reason.

"Damn," he pounded his fist down on his desk, making his glass jump, the scotch slipping over the edge and wetting some of his papers. He cursed and pulled the glass away, quickly drowning the amber liquid. Pushing himself up, he marched over to the bar and refilled his glass, taking another long draft.

When he returned, he was ready. Grabbing the package, he broke the seal and let the contents spill out. Photos and police reports littered his desk. He quickly began to rifle through them: Mobsters kidnapped by police… a female lawyer stabbed in a dark alley… her daughter, now a detective, seeking justice… or revenge. There was also a letter, scrawled quickly.

"What the hell did you get yourself mixed up in, Roy?" he mumbled as he scanned the letter, his eyes going wide at the confession and plea made.

He dropped the letter, letting it fall back to his desk. He raked his fingers through his thinning hair, letting out a long quiet curse. This was deep. A conspiracy, so large and massive it should have folded in on itself, yet somehow it had been able to be maintained by decisive and brutal actions that silenced any and all leaks. This lawyer, Johanna Beckett—he looked at the crime scene photos, as well as the portrait in the case file that had accompanied the other documents—had inadvertently stumbled upon what had happened.

So she was silenced.

Which had only created a new problem, a new threat to the security of those behind the conspiracy: Kate Beckett. A name he knew, recognized, having seen it in the papers three months ago. She'd been the cop that was almost shot at Roy's funeral. He'd been there, mourning the loss of his friend. He'd seen her almost get shot. But it hadn't happened as these bastards had planned. That writer, the one Roy had told him about once, Richard Castle, had jumped in front of her, taken the bullet in her place.

Now he knew the full story. The reasons behind it all. He jabbed his fist into the hardwood again, cursing. This was going to take some difficulty to fix. Despite its delayed arrival, he still understood Roy's reasons for sending this to him. It was an insurance policy. And according to the letter, Montgomery had meant for him to use it to keep Kate Beckett safe. It had arrived too late for him to stop that first shooting. Nonetheless, he could prevent any future attempt by putting it into play.

This was risky. He was playing with fire, and he knew it. But it was Roy's last wish. And he owed it to Roy.

Squaring his jaw, he opened his desk drawer and pulled out a burner phone. He was used to working like this, being unseen. He just had to do it a little while longer. Because, from what he knew about this Kate Beckett, she wasn't one to let things lie. One day, she was going to come after the people behind this. And he knew that when that day happened, when the war erupted, nothing would be safe.

He dialed a number by memory. He'd used it many times in the past, in his previous career.

"United States Capitol, how may I direct your call?" came a professional female voice.

"Congressional offices, please," he said.

"Hold, please."

He narrowed his eyes, shifting forward as he examined the documents before him. Reaching out, he slowly pushed back the case reports and files to reveal what looked like candid photos, taken by a camera phone, of Detective Kate Beckett and the mystery novelist Richard Castle. As the operator transferred him, he pursed his lips and stared down at the photos.

It wasn't that distinctive from the pictures, but it did appear that the two were close. How close, he couldn't say. Though, from some of the looks on Mr. Castle's face, he would wager good money that the man was smitten with her, maybe more, judging by the sparkle in the man's eyes.

However, whatever was going on between the two wouldn't matter if she was killed. And from his rather cursory research he managed to get done before placing this call, he knew that the writer had barely survived the first attempt on the detective's life. What he couldn't understand was why they had been so silent since the shooting. The conspirators had had plenty of time to take both of them out, yet they'd appeared to remain quiet. Something else was going on, and he suspected he knew what it was, once he'd seen the names on the list Montgomery had provided.

But he wasn't doing this for them, or for some twisted form of justice. No. This was about favors, and he owed Roy Montgomery big time. That's why he was doing this. For Roy. Not for them. And with that purpose in mind, he was going to see this to the bitter end. Because that was what Roy had asked him to do.

XXX

Later that night, after they watched two comedies—the names escaped him at the moment—Castle slinked into his office, yawning. He was a little sleepy, but he didn't want to go to sleep. His body was buzzing with energy… creative energy. The visit from Kate had unexpectedly resulted in the renewed rotations of certain imaginative cogs he had worked at suppressing for the last three months.

He slipped down into his chair and opened up his laptop, squinting when the screen flashed on and his eyes adjusted to the new light in the dim room. Arching his back, and grimacing as his scar pulled, he flicked on the desk lamp. Turning back to the laptop, he scanned through his document files, and found the folder labeled simply HEAT. All of his ideas and drafts of Nikki Heat were stored there. He punched his thumb on the track pad and opened the folder, glancing at the contents.

It was still there. Castle hadn't deleted it. At one point, he had been tempted to drag the entire folder to the trash and simply erase everything that had to do with Kate Beckett, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. So he'd left the file alone. But it was still there, waiting for him, as if the gods had known he couldn't keep away.

The corner of his mouth quirked up in an amused grin as he opened up a document file labeled with the title  _Frozen Heat_. That had been his working title for the next books in the series. And now, he found it oddly apropos. For three months, he'd been frozen in place, unable to move on or forward. But now, he was unstuck and instead of turning to the comfort of new friends, he found himself delving into the dark and treacherous waters of old associates, once missed, but never forgotten, and now remembered.

Marcus Munro and Helen Dubois would have to wait, because tonight, his muse was calling upon him, drawing him to her with her dazzling hazel eyes and her cherry scented hair.

His fingers came to rest above the keyboard. And then slowly, they began to move… until he was typing at an astonishing rate.

Nikki Heat was back.


	19. Chapter 19

Beckett walked into the bullpen early that morning. After depositing her bag and coat on her desk, she went off to the break room to make herself a cup of coffee. Working with the espresso machine, she was reminded of Castle. She smiled, fondly recalling when he had purchased it for the homicide squad so they no longer had to drink coffee that tasted like 'motor oil with monkey pee' as he'd described it. Though she knew the truth. He'd really bought it for her. He might have said it was for everyone, but she knew it was really for her. By that time, he'd already learned of her addiction to coffee, and—she'd never admit it—but she actually found it kind of sweet when he presented them with this gift. It was the first time she caught a glimpse at the real Rick Castle… kind and generous.

With her freshly made cup of coffee, Beckett stalked back to her desk and sat on the edge, examining the murder board. They might not be able to work on the Congressman Fenton case, which annoyed her… not to mention the overt advances of FBI Agent Sam Arleen, the guy could not take a hint. Frowning, she shoved those thoughts aside and focused on the investigation she was allowed to work.

Peter Beynon was a real estate agent, who had recently been purchasing empty warehouses for an unknown client. Somehow it was all tied up with her mother's case… the Dragon, as Gary McCallister had called him. But that evidence was missing from the board, safely stored on another board, tucked away on her window shutters.

The lone suspect at this time was Timothy Greene, Beynon's business partner. Amanda Beynon—the wife—had been Beckett's first prime suspect, seeing as Amanda had been having an affair with Congressman Fenton. But, the cheating wife had been with the congressman on the night of her husband's murder. Of course, the congressman was now also dead, so that might mean something there. But they'd already ruled Mrs. Beynon out of it. At least the FBI and Secret Service had.

Beckett took a sip of her coffee and let out a sigh. Something just didn't click with all this. Greene was too good of a suspect, almost like he was being set-up as the fall guy. Yesterday she had been absolutely convinced of the man's guilt, but upon further reflection, she was starting to see some inconsistencies in the case against him.

The rattle of the elevator doors opening pulled her attention away from the murder board. Glancing up, she spotted the boys sauntering in, chatting about some baseball game. She smiled at them and asked if the Yankees had won. Esposito confirmed with an enthusiastic nod before heading off to the break room, Ryan not far behind him.

Thirty minutes later, others started sprinkling in. And soon the bullpen was buzzing with activity. Hank had showed up not long after Ryan and Esposito, and went straight to work, finishing up his review of the more detailed financials they had got last night. Beckett had the boys take a couple of uniforms and canvas the neighborhood again, hoping for more information.

"I'll also check if anyone saw  _our guy_ ," Esposito informed her on the sly before hustling after Ryan. Beckett gave a curt nod, knowing he was referring to the traffic cam photo they had got showing the driver of the same SUV that had been spotted speeding away from the cemetery shooting back in May.

It still gnawed at her… that day. She would never forget how helpless she had felt when she had had to sit in that waiting room, not knowing whether or not Castle would live or die. Not to mention coming to terms with her own emotions and feelings about the writer during the duration. As for the SUV driver, her gut told her that it was the same guy, the one who had taken a shot at her but got Castle instead.

 _That damn man and his heroics_ , Beckett thought, her brow furrowed a bit as her natural irritation for Castle's antics seeped in. But, none too soon, her treacherous eyes became watery as she recalled his pallid complexion when she'd first seen him lying unconscious in his hospital bed after his surgery.

She had known it was going to happen. The minute he showed up and signed those waivers, so determined to follow her… Beckett had known. She hadn't counted on it happening at a funeral attended by half the department. But she had feared it would happen. At first, she wasn't overly that concerned about it, but as she grew to know him, to care about him (maybe more than she thought she should)… she'd begun to worry that he'd get hurt while following her. And then there were all the times they'd gotten into life and death situations together, and her fear had only skyrocketed.

She let out a deep, bone weary sigh, and slumped down onto her chair. God, she missed him. She knew it was silly and pathetic, since she had seen him only last night, but it was more than just that. Kate missed having him here, in the precinct, building theory and helping her solve a case. He _was_  her partner, no matter how Captain Blye or the department saw it.

"Hey," it was Hank, her partner, slipping down into Castle's chair. She blinked. It was going to take her a while to get used to that. Honestly, anytime someone sat down in that chair she still half expected it to be Castle, even though her rational brain knew otherwise.

Hank held out a file for her, which she gave a cursory examination.

"You found something?" she asked.

"Page three," he told her, a small smirk tugging on his lips.

Beckett flipped through the printouts and narrowed her eyes, looking at the typed bank statements. "What exactly am I looking for?"

"A wire transfer about a month ago," Hank said. "Greene transferred half a million to an overseas account."

Her eyes shot up. "Anything to tie it to Beynon's murder?"

"No, nothing," Hank replied. "From what I've been able to gather, this looks like a payoff of some kind. Nothing about it relates to any business deals Greene had going during that time period. In fact, there was no business to speak of, at least on Greene's side. Beynon was doing that warehouse scouting for the mystery client."

"Speaking of which, any leads on him… or  _them_ ," she knitted her eyebrows together.

"Zilch," Hank shook his head, and scowled. "Anyways, it appears we have some leverage now against Greene. A mysterious wire transfer of half a million is suspicious. Maybe we can squeeze him enough that he'll finally talk." He paused, pursing his lips. "Want me to bring him up from holding?"

Beckett nodded. "Yeah, put him in interrogation room two. I want to see what he has to say about this."

XXX

Dr. Alfred Hoover clicked his pen and made a note on his clipboard as Castle began to unbutton his shirt. To be honest, he was a little nervous. If everything went well today, this would be his last check-up with the doctor who'd been overseeing his recovery since his first post-surgical consultation.

"Now, we'll need to do a few tests today, Rick, before we cut the cord," Hoover chuckled good-naturedly.

Castle smiled back. He liked Dr. Hoover. The man truly cared, and he proved that with how he interacted with his patients. It helped too that the man had a good sense of humor. Castle finished removing his shirt, and the doctor stepped forward to examine the surgical incisions, checking for any signs of infection.

Hoover reached out with his hand and brushed his fingertips along Caste's ribs.

"Ooh!" he yelped. "Cold fingers."

The doctor grinned. "Sorry." He moved his hand along the scar, narrowing his eyes. "Do you still feel some pain?"

"Occasionally it pulls when I lift my arm or turn, but other than that… nothing," Castle answered.

Hoover gave a nod, and stepped back, picking his clipboard up to make some notes. He returned shortly and carefully examined the scar tissue around the bullet wound on Castle's chest. "And how about this?"

"About the same, but not as much as the other," Castle replied.

"Does temperature have any effect?" the doctor asked.

"Temperature?"

"Like when you're in the shower, hot and cold water?" Hoover elaborated with a raised eyebrow, waiting for a response.

Castle debated lying, but he thought of how Alexis would give him the third degree if he did so. So he confessed and told the doctor about his panic attack in the shower and how he'd changed the water from hot to cold, rather rapidly, making the scar along his side sting.

"It was like a burning sensation, really," he tried to explain, his eyes glassing over as he remembered the incident.

Hoover gave an understanding nod. "Have you been applying the ointment I recommended?"

Castle reddened a little in embarrassment. "No, not really."

"Well, you should. It would help the tissue heal," Hoover asserted, giving him a stern look. He held Castle's gaze until the writer inclined his head in affirmation that he'd use the ointment as directed. "Good."

The doctor went back to his clipboard to make some more notes. After they'd run over a couple of other issues related to his scars, Hoover took Castle's blood pressure. Upon seeing the results on the digital readout, the doctor raised his eyebrows and glanced over at Castle with a curious expression.

"Your blood pressure has gone down," Hoover informed him.

"Is that a good thing?" Castle hedged, a little wary.

Hoover nodded. "It is," he assured his patient, reaching up to unwrap the strap from around Castle's upper arm. "Your blood pressure was rather high during most of your recovery, but not enough to worry me. I had attributed it to the stress of the situation. But now it appears that whatever stress was keeping it up has dissipated, allowing your blood pressure to taper off to a more acceptable level."

"Okay…," Castle inclined his head, thinking about the one thing—one person, really—that had caused him the most stress over the summer and how some of that had been alleviated the previous night.

"Alright," Hoover clicked his pen and made some more notes on his clipboard, eyeing Castle with a knowing look. "I know we really haven't discussed this, but I'm sure you'll be happy to hear that I'm officially clearing you to resume any and all sexual activity, which no doubt you've been looking forward to, considering that lovely girlfriend of yours."

The last part caught Castle's attention, and he raised his eyebrows in confusion and surprise. He blinked and looked over at Hoover as the doctor adjusted some instruments on the equipment cart. " _Girlfriend_?" he echoed.

"Yes," Hoover nodded, giving Castle a worried expression. "That nice young woman who was here during your hospital stay."

"Oh," he let out a sigh. "You mean my daughter, of course?" Castle questioned, still confused. "Because I don't have a girlfriend." And then added, in his head,  _for now_ , as he thought of Beckett and the lunch date he had with the lovely detective in the afternoon.

Hoover paused and furrowed his brow in concern. "She was there when you got out of surgery, in the private room," he said. "Looked like she'd spent the night with your family." He paused and puzzled over this for a moment, looking like he was trying to recall some details. "I haven't seen her since, but I just assumed you didn't want her present when you were at your most vulnerable… ego and such."

Castle knitted his eyebrows together. "Can you describe her?"

"Tall, thin… medium length brown hair," Hoover said with narrowed eyes.

" _Kate_?" Castle's breath hitched, still in his chest, his eyes scrunching up as he tried to recall his early memories from his hospital stay after his surgery. "She was there… in my private room? But… but that's not possible. I don't remember her being there. Afterwards, yes, when I was moved… but…"

Hoover shrugged his shoulders in a conciliatory manner. "I don't know what to tell you, Rick," he offered. "She was there when I first came to check on you. One of the nurses told me she was your girlfriend, and from her behavior, I had no reason to think otherwise."

Castle sucked in a deep breath, not really listening anymore. He was letting this new information sink in and land where it would. A frown worked its way onto his face as he tried to piece it all together. For a while now, he'd been plagued by lingering doubts about certain portions of his memory regarding his stay in the hospital.

He remembered, or at least, he thought he remembered waking up in the private room. From what he could recall, judging by the hues of light coming through the windows, it had been late afternoon when he awoke for the first time. He distinctly remembered being pulled from the bliss of sleep and into the agonizing painful world of the living by his mother's voice, bemoaning some critic's harsh review of one of her performances. Then he vividly remembered Alexis tackling him in a suffocating yet altogether welcomed hug. After that… everything was sort of blurry.

Having the overactive imagination that he did, Castle's mind had attempted to fill in the blanks for him by conjuring up a wonderful fantasy involving a certain Kate Beckett standing by his bedside, cradling his hand in hers as she told him everything he'd longed for, very much like what she'd just done the previous night. But it had been so much more than that. In his imaginings, Beckett had confessed she no longer wanted to deny the mutual attraction between them, saying that she was ready. And then his tortured battered exhausted mind had supplied him with the image and sensations of her leaning down to kiss him.

And that was it. That was what he remembered.

But it had been a dream… hadn't it? Beckett hadn't been with his family in the private room. It wasn't until he'd been moved to another room that he could unquestionably remember her presence. And even some of that was hazy. Though he did remember asking her for a sponge bath, which she sternly refused to give him, a light playful smile on her lips.

Castle shook his head. No. It wasn't possible that she'd been there when he first woke up. She hadn't told him those things he'd longed to hear, or kissed him for that matter. The only kiss he could remember receiving from Kate Beckett had been a ruse to get past a guard to save Ryan and Esposito. A wonderfully awesome ruse, to be sure, but a ruse nonetheless.

"Still having difficulty with your memories from after the surgery, Rick?" Hoover questioned, giving him a sad knowing look. "It's not all that uncommon following a traumatic experience, such as the one you had."

Castle gulped in a breath of air and turned to face his doctor. "A little, Doc. But you might have just cleared up some things… I think."

Hoover raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Well, alright… why don't we continue, shall we?"

Castle gave a nod, his mind still elsewhere, thinking about that kiss he'd thought had been part of his overactive imaginations, which wasn't too far from reality, considering he often fantasized about the detective in question. Not to mention the fact he wrote books based on her, in which he also created a fictional version of himself to woo and capture the heart of the fearless Nikki Heat.

He was going to have to sort through all this, and determine what was fantasy and what was reality. It would just blow his mind if that kiss he'd imagined were real. What it meant, now that was a different story altogether. If Beckett had kissed him that day, it meant that she'd probably confessed her feelings for him, and if that was true, it left him with some serious questions about her behavior over the summer—though, to be fair, she had explained some of that last night.

Still, with this new information, Castle was interested to hear what she'd have to say. Though, he'd have to be subtle. He didn't want to embarrass himself incase he was just mistaken.

XXX

Beckett marched purposefully towards interrogation room two, a folder clutched to her chest. While Hank had gone down to receive Greene from holding, she'd taken the time to go through the financials and other evidence that had been gathered by the boys and Hank. She was determined to crack Greene and get him to tell her the truth, whatever that might be. Most everything that pointed to him was circumstantial, yet still; he was the most promising suspect.

Reaching the door, she glanced up to see Hank nodding towards the observation room, indicating he'd be watching from there. Beckett gave a nod and gripped the door handle, pushing the door open and striding inside.

She came to an abrupt halt, her eyes taking in the unexpected sight of a lawyer sitting besides Greene. The two men looked up upon her entrance and Greene shifted nervously. Beckett schooled her features as she narrowed her eyes, and closed the door before stalking across the room towards her seat, tossing the folder down onto the flat surface of the table.

"I see you got yourself a new lawyer," Beckett said, trying to assess the situation.

"About that, Detective," the lawyer spoke up, Greene swallowing uncomfortably beside him. "My client wishes to make a confession."

Her eyes flicked over to the lawyer, taking note of his perfectly trimmed hair, and well-manicured appearance. This was no shabby lawyer, nothing like the original guy Greene had in here with him yesterday. This new guy was from one of the big elite law firms, one with lots of high paying clients, judging by the man's expensively tailored suit.

"Is that so?" Beckett questioned, dubiously, as she slid down into her chair, turning to look at Greene for confirmation.

"Yes, that's right," Greene answered in a shaky voice, anxiously glancing over at his lawyer, who gave him a nod. "It… it was me. I killed him."

Beckett shook her head, wondering what brought on this change of story. She glanced back at the lawyer, a little perturbed with his presence. She had a gut feeling that he had something to do with Greene's sudden need to confess. Sure, the guy looked guilty, but she had nagging doubts in the back of her mind, but most of those related to the connections with Castle's shooting that Ryan and Esposito had discovered. Besides that, Beckett had no reason not to suspect Greene of the murder.

"Alright," she said, folding her hands together in front of her on the table. "Tell me."

Greene licked his lips nervously before diving into a tale of how he'd been suspicious that Peter Beynon had some business on the side that he was not sharing with him. He gave her a detailed account of how he'd hired a guy to follow him, and upon seeing his supposed business partner cutting him out of the deal; Greene had then paid the guy to kill Beynon.

She opened the folder and produced the bank transfer statements out, placing them on the table before Greene. "Is this the account you paid him with?"

After consulting with his lawyer, Greene confirmed with a nod. "Yes, it is."

"Okay," Beckett leaned back, taking the printout with her. "Can you tell me this hitman's name?"

Greene paled for a moment. "I don't know his name, but he goes by 'The Fixer'."

"Can you at least give me a description?"

"No… I… I never really spoke to him face to face. My only contact with him was through the internet."

"Alright, then how did your fingerprints get on the murder weapon?" Beckett questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Greene flicked his eyes to his lawyer.

"Don't look at him!" Beckett raised her voice. "Answer the question."

"My client's fingerprints on the murder weapon is insubstantial, Detective," the lawyer interrupted.

"No, it's not," she turned to the lawyer, giving him a pointed look. "Right now, the only evidence that suggests your client paid a hitman is the wire transfer and his word. I'm sorry if that's not enough for me."

The lawyer glared at her with a hard edge, before leaning over to Greene and whispering in his ear. Greene shuddered and gave a nod.

"He said that if I wanted him to kill Peter that I then had to supply the gun," he asserted.

"This 'Fixer' guy?"

"Uh-huh," Greene nodded. "Told me to put it behind the trash bin in the alley near my apartment."

"Alright," the lawyer cut in, reaching out to place a firm hand on Greene's shoulder. She noticed Greene flinch. "I think that's enough for you to track down the hitman."

Beckett inclined her head. "Fine," she grumbled, already knowing when she was being stonewalled. There was nothing more she could ask with a lawyer present, so she sighed. "We'll like a written confession," she said, pulling a blank piece of paper out and a pen, handing them to Greene.

While Greene and his lawyer worked on the confession, Beckett stood in the observation room, watching them. Hank shifted behind her, handing her a cup of coffee.

"What you thinking?" he asked.

She shrugged, knitting her eyebrows together as she took a sip. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "It just seems kind of sudden. And who's that fancy pants lawyer, anyways?"

"Gary Quinn from Bernstein and Holder," Hank answered.

Beckett whistled, impressed. "They're a big firm. However, Greene doesn't seem to fall under their usual clientele."

Hank inclined his head in agreement. "Quinn showed up just as I was retrieving Greene from holding. Someone's interested in this case to pull those kind of strings." He threw back his head and drained his paper cup before tossing it in the trash. "I'll go begin the paperwork."


	20. Chapter 20

It was a nice mid-morning, the sun was shining and there was hardly a cloud in the sky, making it a good day for a stroll in the park. As Andre walked down the path in Central Park, he enjoyed a cup of coffee, taking slow lingering sips as he waited for the call. Spotting an empty bench, he stepped over and sat down, leaning back and taking a long slow breath through his nostrils. He absently watched as a young couple walked past him, their hands laced together, shoulders bumping as they both stared at the other, smiling stupidly.

Andre scoffed and turned away, raising the cardboard cup to his lips to take another sip of his coffee.

The shrill sound of his cell phone rang out across the silence. Ducking his hand into his jacket, he pulled his cell out and hit the receive button, holding it up to his ear.

"Is it done?" he immediately asked, not even bothering with pleasantries, knowing exactly who it was that was calling him.

"It is," came the cold voice of his colleague.

"Good, hopefully with his confession she'll stop digging into the superfluous details," he speculated hopefully.

"I doubt it," his colleague answered.

"How so?"

"She's already found a tenuous link between the realtor's death and the shooting in May."

Andre was silent, his brow lowering as he pondered the implications of this.

"You were sloppy, my friend," the other man spoke. "You should have ditched the SUV during the summer."

Andre's jaw clenched as he held back a sharp retort. "What of the congressman?" he asked. "You were told to make it clean."

"It was."

"No, it wasn't," Andre snapped back, raising his voice. "The Secret Service is involved now. It…," he caught people looking his way and ground his teeth in frustration before continuing, at a much lower volume, "It complicates matters."

"I can handle it," his colleague asserted, short and confident.

Andre scrubbed his hand down his face, and sighed. "I have no doubts about that," he replied.

There was a gap in the conversation, and Andre could barely make out the faint sounds of murmured conversations and ringing phones.

"You there right now?" he asked.

"For the moment, yes."

"I think it's getting too dangerous, you should pull out," Andre said, at length, having thought about this the previous night.

The abrupt termination of Congressman Henry Fenton had not been his idea. The man had been their asset within Congress. It was fear that had held him in check. Fear that his multiple affairs would come to light if he didn't obey the orders given. But he'd grown anxious recently, having received a warning from a mysterious figure, who had called Fenton's congressional offices in D.C. with an offer… and a threat of exposure.

It had been blackmail, plain and simple. Normally they would have dealt with it easily, but not so in this instance. The anonymous blackmailer held all the cards. It appeared that somehow he had gotten his hands on certain files that would expose the whole organization. And those files could not go public. Andre's employer made that very clear.

To further exacerbate the problem, Fenton had then turned nervous rather quickly. The fool had wanted to call the Justice Department and confess his complicity in certain illegal activities. In the end, the boss had decided they needed to silence him in order to protect ongoing business ventures.

So, it had been left to Andre to see to things. He called an old friend, who had already been planted within the entire complicated mess, to fix the situation. Besides, that was one of his aliases: The Fixer. And despite Fenton's loss, they could always easily recruit another congressman to replace him. They were a dime a dozen, after all.

"No, such a course at this juncture is premature," the Fixer replied over the phone, sounding irritated with Andre's attitude. "I'm in a prime position to monitor the situation. Despite her thickness on certain matters, Beckett is still a highly intelligent and capable investigator, and is not pleased with the Feds taking over the Fenton case."

"More reason to abort the surveillance and pull out," Andre argued. "You're too close to influence the case in a beneficial direction without notice."

"It is not your decision," the Fixer said after a pause. "He trusts my discretion. So should you."

Andre raked his fingers through his hair, sighing in frustration. "Alright," he relented. "We'll keep you there for now." He glanced at his watch. It was approaching noon. "See about speaking with your contact soon. The boss wants a more detailed report on the situation."

"Fine," he hissed.

And then the line was disconnected. Andre pulled his phone back and stared at the screen. This was a dangerous game they were playing. He had been cautious when he planted someone in the precinct, but the boss wanted someone close to the detective. Andre chose the best. He'd worked for them before, but he was a lone wolf, who didn't like working with the rest of the pack.

Pocketing his cell, Andre took another sip from his coffee, his eyes skidding across the open field where families and young couples sat out on the green, obliviously unaware of everything else going on in the world.

XXX

"I can't believe this… the guy confessed?" Esposito asked incredulously, his eyebrows knitting together. He arched his neck to peer towards interrogation room two, where Greene and his lawyer, Gary Quinn, were still working on the written confession.

Beckett sighed and gave a nod. "Yeah," she groused, squinting her eyes, feeling the hints of a headache forming. She brought her fingers up and rubbed her temple as a preventive countermeasure. This case just seemed to be one major headache. Even with a confession there were still too many loose ends for her liking. "Just doesn't sit right with me, you know?"

Esposito inclined his head in agreement. "Seems odd that he's changing his tune now."

"I think it's the lawyer," Beckett admitted, still glaring at the door to the interrogation room. "I mean… Greene seemed scared of the guy."

Ryan popped up from his chair, causing Beckett and Esposito to turn around to face him as he came dashing over to them, a slight grin brightening his youthful features. "So I did some digging," Ryan informed them, holding up a printout. "Turns out Greene's telling the truth about 'The Fixer'. I got a buddy down in Major Crimes, confirmed the alias for an infamous hired gun. And this," he held out the single page printout, "is all they've got on him."

"One page?" Esposito raised his eyebrows. He let out a low whistle.

"I know, bro, the guy's a ghost," Ryan said, flipping the page over to hand it to Beckett.

She took it and glanced over the summary. She frowned when she noticed that portions of the file had been blacked out. "Most of this has been redacted," she complained.

"FBI's doing," Ryan said. "Apparently the Feds aren't keen on sharing that much when it comes to 'The Fixer'."

"You think he works for one of the families?" Esposito asked.

"Wouldn't surprise me," Ryan shrugged. "Though, he more likely works freelance. My buddy in Major Crimes says that his alias is linked to numerous hits from all the major mob families and cartels, and not just here in the States, but overseas as well. Seems that the Russian Mafia is particular fond of his services."

"Damn," Esposito was impressed.

"Well, I don't see much here," grumbled Beckett as she put the redacted file down, adding it to the growing number of reports and papers on her desk. "All I can tell from this is his MO."

"Which… just so happens to fit the two that we have," Ryan said, turning to look at the murder board, even though there was only one case on display, a case that they'd soon be closing, since Greene was in the middle of working out his confession with his lawyer.

"Easy there, Ryan. In case you've forgotten, the Fenton case isn't  _ours_ ," Beckett reminded him, much to her vexation. She pushed off from her desk and stood before the white board, giving the crime scene photos a sidelong glance. "He's the Feds, remember?" She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. "Though, we should still probably check out Greene's story."

"Huh?"

She glanced at the boys, suddenly remembering that only Hank had been in the observation room while she'd interrogated Greene. She quickly filled them in on how Greene told her that 'The Fixer' had him buy the gun and drop it for pick up behind a trashcan in the alley running alongside his apartment building.

"You want us to check it out?" Ryan asked, catching on quickly. "See if we can find any fingerprints?"

"Yeah," Beckett nodded, raising her wrist to quickly glance at her watch. She bit her lower lip when she noticed the time. She should probably call Castle and cancel their lunch date. She hated to do it, but the case was really starting to pick up some speed, and she really wanted to find out more about this 'Fixer' guy.

"You got somewhere to be, Beckett?" Esposito asked, giving her a knowing look.

"No," she lied with a shake of her head, not convincing enough, even to herself. "But we are on a deadline here. Hank's working on the paperwork right now, I'll tell him to go as slow as possible… but it won't be long until the DA's office files charges and the captain shuts us down."

Ryan nodded, eager and ready. He was already rushing back to his desk to snatch up his keys. Esposito hesitated, looking at her with uncertainty, as if he could tell she was holding more back. She met his gaze, almost challenging him to say something. It wasn't until he blinked that she knew he wasn't going to push.

"Okay," was all he said in recognition of their little stare off. "Yo, bro! Wait up! He hollered after Ryan as the other detective stepped into the open elevator.

Beckett watched them go, wanting to go with them. It wasn't that she didn't trust them to do their jobs. It was just that this particular case was important—more so for her, as it was somehow inexplicably linked to her mother's murder and the shooting in May—and for those reasons, she didn't want to leave any stone unturned. Sighing, she reached up and brushed back some of her hair before dropping down into her chair and grabbing her cell phone.

She held it in her hand for a long interval, staring at the illuminated screen as it displayed her contact list. Her thumb hovered over his number as she chewed on her lower lip, having an internal debate. She wanted to see him, almost desperately so. Beckett felt pathetic with her need, but she couldn't really help it anymore if he was her one weakness.

"Stop stalling," she hissed out, annoyed at herself. "Just make the damn call."

Gritting her teeth and furrowing her brow in worried anticipation, Beckett let the pad of her thumb brush against the screen, activating the phone. She heaved in a breath for courage and brought her cell up to her ear, listening to the ringing. Beckett drummed her fingers along the desktop as she waited, feeling her heart rate pick up as a odd nervous energy entered her chest, enveloping her with no resistance on her part.

Four rings. Nothing. He wasn't picking up. She pursed her lips and told herself not to worry. He could be in the shower, or absorbed in his writing. Beckett was quite aware of how the rest of the world would fade from his attention when he was working on a story.

Two more rings and she'd hang up. She was not going to leave a message on his voicemail. Not with this call. It felt wrong to do so.

One ring. Two rings.

She sighed, ducking her head. It was time to hang up before she became even more pitiful than she already was. Beckett began to pull the cell phone away from her ear, readying to hang up, when the third ring was interrupted halfway through.

"Rick Castle," came his voice, he sounded out of breath, like he'd been running or in the middle of his physical therapy.

"It's me, Kate," she said, immediately feeling ridiculous.  _Of course he knows it's you._  Grounding her teeth at her own ineptitude when it came to doing anything that was remotely close to dealing with an actual relationship, she ducked her head down, resting her forehead in her palm.

"Kate?" his voice came out in a surprised gasp. Just the sound of her name on his lips was a balm to her soul.

"Am… Am I interrupting something? I… I could call back."

"No… no, not at all," Castle hastily assured her. "Gitmo Joe says we're done."

" _Gitmo Joe_?" Beckett frowned.

"My physical therapist… sorry,  _personal trainer_ , apparently being called a therapist insults his manhood," Castle explained, rambling slightly.

"Is he giving you the evil eye?" Kate smirked, couldn't help it. Trust Castle to always bring a smile to her lips.

"Uh… yeah, he is," he replied, playing at being affronted by such things.

Kate heard something that sounded like a laugh, and some shuffling, followed by the muffled sound of a door closing. She could just imagine Castle pressing his phone against his chest and rushing away from his personal trainer to avoid receiving any amused looks from what the man could hear of Castle's side of their conversation.

"There… finally some privacy! You know, I think my metrosexuality scares him," Castle's happy voice came back, all carefree and humorous. She could practically see the enormous grin on his face.

Kate laughed lightly, freely. The smile broke across her face without restraint or hesitation, and Beckett knew she had him to thank for that. Castle was the only one who could brighten her day so quickly, with just a word, look, or smile… someday she hoped she could add 'a touch' to that list, possibly even 'a kiss'—yeah, she longed for that last one the most.

"You sure you aren't hiding from him because your gushing like a schoolgirl?" she asked, chuckling softly.

Castle laughed in return, so bright and happy, it eased her heart to hear him do so. He was made to laugh and be free of sorrow. His capacity to see the light in the dark was one of the things she loved about him. It startled her a bit that she could finally admit that to herself, if not yet to him. Kate knew that she needed to repair some things first, before she could be that open with him, and tell him just how much he affected her… but then again, Castle knowing just how much of an affect he had on her might not be a good thing.

"Calling about lunch?" he asked, pulling her out of her thoughts. "'Cause, now that I'm done here with Gitmo Joe, I'm starving."

Kate bit her lower lip, now feeling guilty about canceling. But she needed to focus on this case. She dropped her hand and fiddled with the edge of one of the numerous papers on her desk. "Yeah, about that? Can I get a rain check on lunch?"

The other end of the line went silent, saved for his labored breathing, a result of whatever exercise routine he'd been doing before she called. The only acknowledgment she got that he'd heard her was a long sigh of disappointment. Kate lowered her head, ashamed, as she ran her fingers through her hair.

"Stuck on a case, huh?"

She was nodding before she remembered that he couldn't see her. But he didn't seem to need to see her to know she was confirming his question.

"Okay," he continued, his voice soft and forgiving. "I understand. I… damn… I was really looking forward to it."

God… she didn't deserve this man. He was far too willing to let things slide when it came to her. But Kate was not above looking a gift horse in the mouth. She was beyond grateful for his understanding, and she wanted him to know just how much she appreciated it and reciprocated his eagerness to finally start something up between them. It wasn't going to be much, just a lunch date at Remy's—they'd done that plenty of times, but this time was going to mean something more than just two colleagues grabbing a bite to eat.

"I know, me too… and I feel terrible, but this case… we broke some leads that I want to follow up on, and I just don't think I'd be able to actually get away for lunch," she rushed out her explanation, not trusting her voice to not crack. It was eating her up inside to cancel on him. "I was really looking forward to it, though.  _Really_." She sighed, feeling her cheeks flush as she let more slip. "God, Castle, I  _really_  wanted to see you today."

He was silent as he absorbed that admission. Kate blushed with embarrassment, having not intended to say that much.

"Kate, it's okay," Castle assured her. She could hear the tender understanding in his voice, the empathy. Oh, she so did not deserve him. But she wasn't letting go. She was shameless with her want for him.

"Thanks, Castle, I… I really appreciate it, and I do want to have that date… I really do," she asserted, wanting him to know that she was in this; that she really did want to try at a relationship outside of their working partnership. A real relationship. A relationship where she did not have one foot out the door, just waiting for it to fail. She wanted it with him. She wanted it like she had never wanted anything before. And she desperately hoped it would lead to something amazing and wonderful… dare she say… magical.

"Hey," oh, she recognized that tone of voice—an idea had struck him, and he was barely containing his excitement. "If you can't come to lunch, how about I bring lunch to you?"

She paused, staring off into space. That… she hadn't thought of that possibility. It had been so long since anyone came to visit her at the precinct. A few friends dropped by now and then, and, in the past, the occasional boyfriend would show up to pick her up after work to take her out or back to his place… or hers, but she'd never had someone—that is, outside the job—stop by just to bring her lunch.

Kate dragged her lower lip under her teeth and contemplated his suggestion. She wanted to see him, desperately so. And if she was honest with herself, truly honest, she couldn't care less if anyone noticed how much she wanted him. It  _was_  almost time for her lunch break anyways. So there shouldn't be any harm in allowing him to stop by.

Upon hearing the familiar ding of the elevator, she glanced up, spotting Hank meeting a pretty blonde woman. As she stepped through the sliding metal doors and approached him, he leaned forward and lightly brushed his lips against hers, almost shyly. Witnessing her partner greeting his wife for lunch strengthened her fledgling resolve.

If other detectives could have spouses stop by for lunch, then why couldn't she do the same? It wasn't like Castle would be shadowing her again. He wouldn't be coming in to consult. He'd just be stopping by for lunch. The captain couldn't boot him out for that.

"Yeah, Castle, I'd like that," she breathed out, smiling, feeling lighter, like a weight had been lifted off her chest. She probably looked like a grinning fool, but she couldn't care less, especially when it was him making her smile. Kate hadn't been aware of just how much she wanted—no, needed—to see him, but she did. What did that say about her? She didn't know. But right now, she didn't care. She just wanted to see him.

"Great!" Castle enthused. "Let me just hop in the shower, and I'll be there in thirty."

Oh, awesome… now she was having visions of him naked and wet, droplets of water cascading done his back, over the contours of his muscles towards his… Kate flushed hot with an embarrassing amount of sudden arousal, right there, in the middle of the precinct. She needed to get this conversation over with before she embarrassed herself anymore.

"Right, okay," her voice was way too breathy than it should have been. "I'll… I'll see you then, Castle."

"See you soon, Detective."

And then he hung up. God… the way he said her job title was just too damn sexy. She wanted to hear him say that like the again, in that same seductive tone as he kissed his way down her body, making promises of deliciously naughty things. Kate swallowed, and closed her eyes, scrubbing her face with her hands, trying to calm down, cursing her body for reacting to him like it did. He wasn't even there, and her body still responded. Since when did she become such a horny teenager?

 _Since the day he walked into your life, that's when_ , a voice in her head supplied.

Letting out a long sigh, Kate rubbed the back of her neck and glanced up at the digital clock on her computer. Okay, thirty minutes. She could last thirty minutes. She just needed to distract herself. Looking down at her desk, she noted the redacted file. Yeah… that should do it. Picking it back up, Beckett knitted her eyebrows together and read it again, this time paying special attention to every little detail.

XXX

He left a disgruntled—nothing new there—Gitmo Joe to pack up the blue workout mats as he rushed out of the living room, through his office and bedroom, until he was situated in the attached ensuite bathroom. He cranked the knob to high and literally jumped into the shower. After hanging up the phone, Castle could hardly contain himself. He was a little disappointed that they couldn't have their date, but he was still going to see her, and that was the important part.

The water was freezing and he startled back, ashamed of the girly yelp he let out when the chilly spray hit his skin. Goosebumps immediately materialized along his arms and he shivered, instinctively wrapping his arms around himself for warmth. He turned his back to the showerhead, figuring his back would be able to handle the cold better than his front, which held certain regions that weren't too fond of the cold.

Castle took a deep breath, trying to soothe his rapidly beating heart. He felt kind of lightheaded, and it wasn't from the extensive torture—exercise—that his taskmaster—personal trainer—had put him through. No. Not at all. He felt like a schoolboy with his first crush, which was insane, right? He frowned, utterly baffled and confused. He was Richard Castle, playboy extraordinaire. He'd had countless rendezvous with any number of women, yet now… now of all times he was feeling anxious and nervous.

If he knew anything at all, it was because this time it was different. It was important… far more than important! Kate Beckett was not just some ordinary woman. She was  _the_  woman. The one that had changed his life, made him believe in more than just himself. She opened his eyes to a world of possibilities, a world he had long ago written off. But now he was there, standing on the precipice of something amazing… beyond infinitely amazing.

Kate Beckett was the one. He'd never been a romantic, never truly believed in such a thing as soulmates, but that had changed when he met Detective Katherine Beckett. She was extraordinary. The singular most brilliant woman he'd ever met. Since the day he first met her, he couldn't take his mind off her. She was always there, lurking in the background, waiting to pounce. His creative side manifested her in Nikki Heat—a release valve for the passion shimmering beneath the surface. At the time, he had had no idea just how much it would take him over.

There had been a few instances over the years, especially the times he'd felt the terrible pang of heartbreak, when he hated himself for loving her. Yet, despite all the times he'd tried hiding in distractions and unfortunate mistakes, Castle could never get away from it… from the truth of the matter, which was he was in love with Kate Beckett.

Love.

It was an emotion that filled him to the brim, almost suffocating. And it just wasn't an infatuation. He'd had those before—Sophia Turner, to name a few. Even, to his eternal shame, neither of the two women he'd married could fit into that sadly small category of women he'd loved. Besides his mother and daughter, the only woman he'd truly loved had been Kyra Blaine. When she left him, he'd felt crushed and abandoned, like his whole world had been snatched away and there was no possibility of ever seeing the light again.

And he'd given up on love.

But then he met Kate Beckett, and his world changed.

It had been a long and hard road, Castle mused as the water finally began to heat up. Watching from the sidelines as she dated another man had been difficult. To be honest, it had been more of a struggle than he had originally believed. He had been trying to be the better man. To be happy in her happiness, even if that happiness was not with him. But now things had changed. And finally for the better. He was feeling optimistic that there was actually a light at the end of the tunnel, a true chance of a happy ending, a thing he'd long since given up on as being nothing but a fairy tale cliché.


	21. Chapter 21

Castle entered the small confines of the elevator, taking long and deep breaths—slow and steady. He'd learned over the course of the summer that he'd unfortunately developed a minor case of claustrophobia. The therapist he'd seen after getting discharged from the hospital had hypothesized it had to do with the stress of nearly dying. Castle had to admit that it was easier to breathe in open area with lots of windows, where he could see the boundless sky above.

He allowed himself a small smile as he turned around and faced the row of buttons, effortlessly pressing the appropriate button like he'd done some many times over the past three years. Stepping back, he heaved in a deep breath, trying to qualm the butterflies in his stomach. It wasn't like this was a date. Because it wasn't. Originally it was, but going on a date involved actually… well, going out.

Flicking his eyes up to the illuminated numbers above the door, Castle resumed his breathing exercises, mentally picturing Alexis coaching him, like she had many times over the summer. Part of him was worried that being trapped in the small space of the elevator might cause him to go into a panic attack, but he reckoned that since he'd been able to survive the longer up and down elevator trips back at his building, he should have no problem with the precinct elevator… though it did seem to be operating slower today than it normally did.

He had made it through security quite easily. In fact, he'd been immediately waved through by Curt, the desk sergeant, as if he was expected. Castle had been surprised at the warm reception he'd received from the man, even more surprised that he actually remembered his first name, and not just as Sergeant Stevens. After all, it had been a long time since he'd even stepped through the lobby of the 12th Precinct. But, at the same time, it almost felt like he'd never left. In a lot of ways, it was almost like a homecoming, of sorts.

Sighing, Castle shifted the takeout bag in his hand and nervously ran his fingers through his hair, baffled at his rising heart rate, unsure whether it was due to the small space or the anticipation of seeing  _her_  again. He closed his eyes, briefly, and gave a shake of his head, trying to calm the amped up energy flowing through his veins.

She had kissed him.

He exhaled softly. Yes. He was positive now. It had been in the hospital, when he had just woke up from surgery, she'd been there. Kate. And… and she'd kissed him… on the lips. And then he'd forgotten, thought it was a delusion conjured up by his drugged induced dreams. Yet, it wasn't a dream. It had been real. She knew that. Knew it all the time. And she'd let him think it was a dream. Kate had run away, which wasn't all too surprising. He wished she'd stayed. Though, in all honesty, part of him was glad she hadn't been around to see him at his worse, when he'd cursed and fumbled and nearly gave up.

It hadn't been pretty for him or his family. He'd scared Alexis often enough with his panic attacks, a burden he desperately wished hadn't had to be forced upon his amazingly wonderful daughter. But she'd handled it was grace and poise, far beyond her years. Castle owed so much to her. Alexis was one of the bright spots in his life, and he was forever grateful for all that she'd done for him during the summer to help him recover.

But now it was time for him to stand on his own. And he was determined to do so and make Alexis proud of him.

Castle desperately wanted to confront Kate about the hospital and the kiss, however, he knew that now was probably not the best time or place, for that matter, to bring it up. Perhaps he could convince her to come by the Loft later, or he could talk her into inviting him over.

He chuckled softly to himself. As if he could talk Kate Beckett into doing something. God knows he'd tried to do that last May, when she was diving blindly into the abyss. He'd failed then. So he wasn't particularly sure of what good his powers of persuasion could do with respect to Beckett and her iron resolve.

The familiar ding of the elevator startled him, a flood of memories stormed through his mind. So many moments had passed between these very walls. Castle was temporarily frozen with the wealth of images and emotions.

"You getting off?"

He blinked, flushed with embarrassment at how the question sounded, not to mention the erotic direction that some of his thoughts had been heading. He flicked his eyes up and saw a man with short-cropped blond hair, his arm draped over the shoulders of a pretty blonde woman. He licked his lips anxiously and glanced up at the lighted numbers above the opening.

"Yeah," he breathed out, stepping off the elevator and backing up to allow the couple to enter. The man paused, and looked at him for a moment with a furrowed brow. The woman rolled her eyes and leaned up to whisper something in his ear. Just before the doors rattled closed, Castle saw recognition flash in the man's eyes as his gaze darted up towards him.

Exhaling slowly, Castle stood rooted in his spot, unsure how to proceed.

"Castle?"

His heart floated up with joy at that voice, and he turned slowly, looking around the bullpen, eager to match up the voice with the woman he knew it belonged to. He felt his breath catch in his throat when he saw her. She was standing by her desk, dress in dark slacks and a deep purple sweater. And she was smiling.

She was gorgeous.

Kate pirouetted in place, leaning down to drop the papers she'd been holding onto her desk. Castle stood there, taking a moment to admire the way her black slacks hugged her backside. He wouldn't put it past her to have specifically worn those pants today for just that reason—to get a rise out of him. Oh, and if he let his thoughts get carried away, she'd definitely get a rise out of him.

Inhaling a quick breath, Castle averted his gaze when she spun back around, the wide beaming smile still gracing her face. He smiled back, stupidly, couldn't help it. He really was smitten with her. Always had been. He'd just never expected just how deeply he'd fall for her. But, then again, things were never easy when it came to Kate Beckett.

Presently, the object of his desire was marching towards him with a purposeful stride. "You're early," she said, a bit teasingly, her tongue quickly flicking out between her teeth for a brief second.

"Proper motivation always does the trick, Detective," he quipped back with a smirk, surprised at how easily his comeback came to him.

Kate smiled at him, her eyes glistening with unsaid emotion. "I'll keep that in mind," she said softly, a slight blush blossoming across her cheeks as she tugged her lower lip under her teeth. "So, what'd you bring me, Castle? I'm starving!"

"Huh?"

"Lunch."

"Oh, yeah, lunch…," he fumbled with the takeout bag, holding it up to show her. "I knew you were thinking Remy's, but since lunch is coming to you today, I figured I'd go with…" and then for the dramatic reveal, "Emperor's Palace!"

"Spring rolls and dumplings?" she asked, eyes lighting up with hope.

"Of course," Castle assured her with a smirk and crinkle of his eyes. "Couldn't forget your favorite side dishes. Also got you vegetable low mein and the kung pao chicken. I even stood by and made sure they put in an extra helping of those little water chestnuts, just the way you like it."

Kate regarded him with soft eyes, so luminous and wonderful. So much was being left unsaid, yet was loud a clear in her eyes. He sighed, wishing he'd have more than just subtle looks and soft smiles.

"Well, lets go to the break room before it gets cold!" she pursed her lips and smiled warmly, gesturing away from her desk.

Castle bobbed his head enthusiastically, and followed her as she swooped past him, leading the way to the break room. He took a moment to look around the bullpen, seeing if Ryan and Esposito were there, but their desks remained empty. He cast a cautious glance up at the captain's office, catching a glimpse of a 50ish man in a shirt and tie, his sleeves rolled up, talking on the phone, looking very disgruntled.

"The new captain," Kate said, noticing his stare. "Bill Blye."

"Blye?" Castle questioned, giving her a mischievous look.

"Yeah, so?" she questioned back, confused, her nose wrinkling adorably.

He let out a low chuckle. "If only there was an officer here named Christian."

Kate stared at him for a moment, baffled as to his meaning. It took her but a second to catch on. A sly smile spread across her face and she shook her head at him. "Actually, that would be kind of funny," she admitted, trying to suppress a light laugh.

"Most definitely," he replied. "Where's Marlon Brando when you need him?"

She laughed, and rolled her eyes. Castle grinned. It almost felt like old times.

"Can't say I haven't contemplated mutiny," Kate murmured, her eyes narrowing in the direction of Captain Blye.

Castle laughed. " _Detective Beckett_!" he feigned shouting, mimicking the way Trevor Howard had spoken that famous line—  _Mister Christian!—_ from 1962's  _Mutiny on the Bounty_. "Well, at least he's not like Hannibal Lector," he added, making a reference to Sir Anthony Hopkins taking on the role of Captain Bligh in the 1984 version.

"I bet you were the class clown," she asserted, pursing her lips together as she suppressed an amused smirk.

"Yeah, pretty much."

Kate shook her head at him, still smiling. "Alright, clown boy, let's go before someone overhears us and reports us to the teacher," she said teasingly while reaching a hand up to tug him by his coat sleeve until he was moving again.

They entered the break room, and Castle relinquished the takeout bag to Kate as he watched her remove the white cartons and arrange them on the table. He pulled out a chair and sat down, catching a pair of chopsticks when she tossed them towards him, a playful grin gracing her gorgeous features. She sat down right next him without hesitation and grabbed one of the cartons, popping the lid open and diving in with gusto.

"Mmm," she hummed through a full mouth. "So good. You have no idea how much I've missed this."

"What?" he startled, looking at her with mild shock. "Are you saying you haven't had Emperor's Palace since… since last time?" God, he couldn't even remember the last time they shared a meal, let alone the last time they'd had Chinese takeout from their mutual favorite restaurant.

"Uh-huh," Kate nodded, dipping her chopsticks into a carton to snag a spring roll. He watched as she slid one end into her mouth and take a bite, wincing slightly at the image… curse his overactive imagination. She knitted her eyebrows at him, giving him a funny look, before smiling and shaking her head, no doubt knowing where his mind had gone. She nudged his leg with her foot under the table. "Get you're mind out of the gutter, Castle."

He cleared his throat, and pretended to be interested in staring at an oddly shaped broccoli in the vegetable low mein. "I don't know what you're talking about."

" _Sure_ ," she drawled out, giving him  _the look_  before returning to her meal. "You know, normally I only like having Chinese for dinner… but this isn't bad right now. Actually, this is exactly what I needed."

"Tough case?" Castle asked tentatively, twisting slightly in his chair to gaze at her profile.

She made a low hum in response, snatching up a dumpling with her chopsticks and popping it into her mouth. He watched, mesmerized, as she chewed. A small flash of pink tongue darted out as she licked her top lip before she swallowed. His eyes followed the motion down the column of her throat.

"Feel free to fill me in," Castle offered, finding it oddly important to once again talk shop with her. He had always loved spinning theory with Beckett, and for the moment, he believed it might be easier to tread on familiar ground.

"Okay," Kate shifted in her chair, turning her body towards him. She brought one leg up and tucked it under her as she twisted towards him. He couldn't help but smile. She was really adorable at times. "Peter Beynon, a real estate agent, was killed, execution style—probably after some torture, as well—in an alley behind an erotica store."

"Ooh, I'm liking this already," Castle interjected, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Kate smirked. "The boys tried to make up for you not being there," she informed him, then paused, frowning in thought. "They're not as good at it as you are."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It wasn't meant as a compliment," Kate answered, giving him a small taste of her famous glare. "What's one of the first things I taught you?"

"Look for the odd sock," he answered immediately.

Kate laughed, all throaty and beautiful. She brought a hand up and brushed her hair back. "Keep going."

"Stay in the car."

"After that."

"Honor the victim," he replied, all hints of humor removed from his voice. "After all, they were all once someone's mother, father, daughter, son, sister, brother… And they deserve our respect, no matter how they lived or died."

She gave a nod and said, "Not that I don't appreciate your gallows humor, it definitely made doing this job easier, I still would've liked it if you had… restrained yourself a little more. That being said, you wouldn't be you if you did."

"I understand," he said. "Humor… it has always been a coping mechanism for me."

"I know," Kate replied, her eyes locked with his. A current of electricity past between them, and he knew that she felt it too. He watched as she struggled against it, like she always did. And, just like every other moment, it passed. She averted her gaze and let out a soft sigh, almost like she was disappointed in herself.

"So… Peter Beynon?" Castle spoke up, knowing she needed a way out and back to solid… safer ground.

"Yeah… so Hank and I first questioned the wife," she said.

"Hank? He's your new partner, right?" Castle asked, fighting the snarling beast named jealous in his gut.

"Yeah. Hank Connors, transferred over from the 20th a month or two back on request from Captain Blye," Kate informed him. "1PP felt I needed a  _real_ partner."

"I can understand that."

"No, Castle… that's not what I meant," she sighed, lowering her head, and letting out a breath in frustration. "You'll always be my partner. I don't know if you noticed, but before you, I really hadn't had a stable partner. I went through them a dime a dozen. I scared most of them off, if you asked Esposito."

Castle chuckled. "Oh, I can imagine that."

She gave him a look.

"Just that you're kind of intense," he tried to backpedal. "In… a good way."

Kate leaned back and raised an eyebrow, skeptical, feigning offense.

"Whatever, you know what I mean," Castle huffed, and waved a hand up to dismiss it, turning away to rummage through the cartons, in search of the last dumpling. "So how's he working out?"

"Hank? Okay, I guess," Kate replied. "It's just not the same without you," she admitted, nibbling at a water chestnut. She smiled softly, and glanced up at him, holding up her chopsticks slightly, the small round clump of white still squeezed between it. "Thanks, again, for getting extra. I really do like them."

"I know," Castle said, returning her smile. "So, back to the case… any leads?"

"Well, the wife was having an affair, so she was a logical first suspect," Kate said, chewing. "But she alibied out. Timothy Greene, Beynon's business partner, was the next suspect… apparently they were on the outs, or something. And the business was floundering. We found suspicious activity in Greene's accounts, and we did get some partials off the murder weapon… but…"

"There's always a 'but'," Castle chirped in.

"My gut is telling me he didn't do it," Kate told him. "Yet, this morning, his lawyer comes in and he confesses. Says he paid some hitman codenamed 'The Fixer'."

"But you aren't buying that, are you?"

"Not entirely, but 'The Fixer' is definitely our guy," Kate asserted. "I'm just not sure Greene's the one who paid him."

"Why?"

Castle watched as Kate's eyes drifted off in thought. Her brows creased slightly, and that vein on one side of her forehead appeared. He wanted so badly to reach out and soothe it away, but he refrained from any such physical interaction. Kate heaved in a deep breath, and glanced around. Castle arched his neck and had a look for himself… they were alone, as far as he could tell.

"We think Beynon was working as an intermediary for  _them_ ," she said.

From the way Beckett said ' _them_ ', Castle had no doubt of whom she was speaking. He leaned closer, and lowered his voice. "Are you saying that this case might be related to your mother's?" he asked.

Kate nodded. "Yes, and… and your shooting," she said, her voice hitching up. Her eyes imperceptibly flirted down to his chest before rising up to meet his. "And it got more complicated. The man Amanda Beynon was having an affair with was Congressman Henry Fenton, and the day after Beynon was killed Fenton turns up dead, murdered the exact same way."

"So their murders are connected," Castle nodded, already putting some pieces together from what she has told him. "Both killed by this 'Fixer' guy."

"I think so, yes," she said. "However, and here's the part you're going to love… the Secret Service came in and took over Fenton's case."

"Secret Service…  _the_  Secret Service, as in  _the guys who'll take a bullet for you_  Secret Service?"

"Yep," Beckett inclined her head. "They swooped on in right in the middle of Lanie's on-scene prelim examination and practically kicked us out."

"Doesn't make sense," Castle said, resting an elbow on the table, his chin in his palm. "I mean, sure Fenton's a congressman, but he's not that important."

"They weren't really there for him, per se," Beckett informed him. "He was going to be meeting with Governor Howard."

"Jimmy?"

"Whoa… wait! Are you saying you're on a first name basis with the Governor?" Beckett questioned, raising her eyebrows incredulously.

Castle stared her down, waiting for her to blink. Just when he knew he had her convinced, he smirked triumphantly. She rolled her eyes and playfully punched him in the shoulder.

"Not funny," she growled.

"Totally was," he said, rubbing his sore shoulder. It hurt, more than he had anticipated—and he wasn't going to let her know that—but it was so worth it. Keeping his hand on his shoulder, kneading the sore muscles, he took on a contemplative expression. "So… if the Secret Service got involved… that means they must be worried that there is a threat to the Governor, after all he is running for President."

"That's what I'm thinking," she agreed. "And the FBI's sticking their noses in this too, making it impossible to get anything really done."

"And having to keep quite about your mother's case makes things complicated," Castle finished, seeing what had her frustrated and unwilling to leave the precinct… even for a date with him.

"Not just my mom's case, Castle," Beckett asserted, a strange look in her eyes. "Ryan and Esposito have been doing some discrete research, and we believe the guy who shot you is also mixed up in this."

Castle's chest tightened and he was at a loss for words. He leaned back in his chair, trying to absorb that bit of information. Unconsciously, he reached up and put a hand over his chest, just above the scar where the bullet had ripped through his body. Having been through several panic attacks since his release from the hospital, Castle was well aware that he was building up to one. His breathing was more difficult and his lungs ached.

"Castle, look at me," it was her voice, penetrating the chaos of his mind.

He felt her hand on his shoulder, her fingers gently caressing the skin on his neck. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and obeyed her command, turning his head to look at her. Her hand moved up to cradle the side of his face, the pad of her thumb rubbing his cheek.

"It's alright, Castle, I'm here, nothing is going to happen," Kate spoke in a calm and steady voice. "Just breathe. Slow and easy." She took a slow breath, feeling her lung and expanding her chest before expelling the air in a long and slow exhaling, demonstrating for him. He kept his eyes locked with hers, and did as she was doing.

Oxygen slowly entered his body as he breathed in. He focused on her and her voice, listening to her instructions. The panic and anxiety slowly ebbed away, and his pounding heart slowed its pace to a more acceptable rate. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply through his nose—the smell of cherries everywhere—before opening his eyes and looking up at her. Castle could not hold back all the love from radiating out as he gazed at her, unconsciously easing into her palm that still cradled the side of his face.

Seeming to realize what she was doing, Beckett startled, jerking her hand back, and then hesitantly dropping her arm. Her eyes remained locked with his as she swallowed.

"Better?" she asked. He could not help but notice the slight rise in her voice.

Castle licked his lips and blinked, forcing the moment away as he averted his gaze. "Yes," he nodded. "Thank you."

"It was nothing," she said, tucking a loose strand of her brunette hair behind an ear. "You'd do the same for me."

"Yes, I would," he said, looking back up at her. "In a heartbeat."

She stilled, and pursed her lips, glancing at him hesitantly. He wasn't talking about coaxing her out of a panic attack, and she knew it. Castle could sense the tension in the air; it was thick enough to cut with a knife, if one felt so inclined to do so. Frankly, he never really understood that metaphor. There was just something inherently morbid about envisioning a knife cutting through things.

He wanted so badly to reach out and touch her, to grab her by the face and pull her lips to his, but he couldn't. There was so many things they needed to talk about, issues that needed to be resolved before they even went there. His mind kept conjuring up images of his hospital stay and of the kiss he'd once believed was only a figment of his foolishly hopeful dreams.

He had to confront her about it. But now was not the time. Yet… he needed some resolution. They didn't have to talk about it, but maybe if he could just get her to admit that it was real, that it had actually happened… then… then maybe that would be enough for now.

Keeping his gaze locked with hers, Castle parted his lips, intent on questioning her about the kiss, when the break room door opened and none other than Javier Esposito—the man had the worse timing ever—came barging in.


	22. Chapter 22

She was cradling his face in her palm… why? She didn't rightly know. It seemed like the right thing to do. It only seemed fair that it was finally her comforting him. After all, he'd done his fair share of consoling her during their unorthodox partnership. And Kate loved him. She really did, with all of her heart, but it wasn't enough. Not yet. First, Beckett needed to heal the schism that she'd created, so that Kate could cross the bridge and embrace him as she wished.

But right now, this kind of prolonged touching… it was too intimate, too telling of her true feelings, especially while they were still in the precinct. She wanted him to know the truth about how she felt about him, about how long she'd felt as she did, but now was neither the time nor place to make such declarations known.

Without intending to, Kate pulled her hand back in a jerky motion. Regret instantly filled her heart when she glimpsed the flash of hurt across his eyes when she did so. She wanted to apologize, to tell him that she hadn't meant it like that. It was just difficult. Beckett just wasn't used to openly showing her emotions like this. It had been a knee-jerk reaction, habitual, something she desperately wanted to change.

Feeling both guilt and shame, she swallowed, keeping her eyes locked with his. "Better?" she asked, hoping that she'd managed to help him battle through the sudden surge of a panic attack he had been building toward when she'd mentioned the link to his shooting.

It was hard for her, seeing the play of emotions ripple across his face as he remembered the awful event, and the subsequent recovery period that… a time she'd been distant, instead of being at his side, like she should have been. She still felt ashamed of her actions, but at the time she had believed she was doing the right thing, that it was better for him not to have her around. She was dangerous. A girl on fire. A flame. People she loved always seemed to get caught in the fallout and get burned. And when it came to Castle, she couldn't stomach the possibility of him being in the crosshairs again.

Castle licked his lips and blinked, averting his gaze momentarily. "Yes," he bobbed his head. "Thank you."

"It was nothing," she answered, after a beat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind an ear. All that nervousness was resurfacing again. She tried her best to squash the flutter of butterflies in her stomach. "You'd do the same for me."

"Yes, I would," he replied, his voice firm and resolute. "In a heartbeat."

Kate pursed her lips and looked at his eyes, knowing that he was talking about more than just helping her through a panic attack. She averted her gaze. She couldn't stand the raw emotion radiating out of his eyes. It was too much to deal with right now. She needed to focus on his safety and finding the people behind this… only then would it be safe to give into her selfish desires and give him everything. Because that's what she wanted to do. She wanted to give him everything that she was—her complete being, her soul, all which made her Kate Houghton Beckett—she wanted him to have.

She glanced up at him, noting how his eyes narrowed suspiciously as he observed her. Kate had always told him it was creepy, how he stared at her, but now she found it endearing and oddly reassuring, even if in doing so he'd learn things about her that she wasn't yet ready for him to know.

Castle seemed to have come to a decision. His eyes had that glint in them, and he licked his lips nervously. She could sense what it was. He was preparing to broach a topic, one that he was uncertain about her reaction to. Her gaze flicked down to his lips and then back up to his eyes, feeling her heart rate tick up with anticipation for whatever it was he was going to ask. He parted his lips, ready to speak, when the break room door burst open, startling both of them.

Kate turned her head, and cursed inwardly, as Esposito entered the room. His expression changed from determination to surprise when he caught the two of them sitting there and staring up at him with equally annoyed expressions.

Swallowing, he straightened his back and gestured with the file in his hand. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No."

"Yes."

Beckett blinked and glanced at Castle, catching his gaze, unsure who said what. Esposito hesitated, confusion written all over his face as his eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. Beckett huffed out a sigh, knowing that an interruption like this was unavoidable, especially when they were eating lunch at the precinct. If it wasn't Esposito or Ryan, then it could have been someone else.

"That for me?" Beckett barked out, holding out a hand for the file, which she assumed was meant for her. She didn't even suppress her irritation at being interrupted.

Esposito blinked once, twice, before extending his hand with the file and letting her snatch it up. She opened the folder and flipped through the paperwork, ignoring the bromance greeting being exchanged between the two men. When her cursory examination of the heavily redacted file was done, Beckett caught the tail end of them 'feeding the birds'.

In the past, their juvenile behavior would have annoyed her, but seeing how the exchange brought a happy smile to Castle's face, Beckett found herself more pleased and heartened than irritated. It was nice to see Castle smile. He was meant to smile. It made him look younger, especially when he would get those little crinkles around his eyes—laugh lines, she liked to call them.

"I don't get it, Espo?" Beckett questioned, frowning up at her colleague, waving the folder slightly. "Nothing in this file is new information."

"It's not?" Esposito frowned, snatching the folder back and looking it over. He gritted his teeth in frustration and cursed mildly in Spanish. "Sorry, grabbed the wrong folder. Ryan has a strange way of organizing things."

Castle chuckled. "That he does. Where is he, by the way? I'd like to say hi."

"Out grabbing burgers for us," Esposito replied, eyeing the half-empty containers of Chinese food sitting on the table. "Seeing as someone neglected to remember his bros… wait?" The light in his eyes brightened mischievously, and he turned to Beckett, smirking slightly. "That lunch date you said you had to cancel… was it… with Castle?"

Beckett pushed past the lump in her throat and inclined her head, just enough to confirm her friend's suspicions. "Yes," she gave voice to it as well. "We… were catching up."

"Looked like you were doing more than just 'catching up' when I came in," Esposito insinuated, arching a challenging eyebrow.

"You saw nothing," Beckett growled, scowling up at him. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Castle stiffening. She pursed her lips, promising herself she'd explain later. "Nothing but two friends having lunch and talking."

Castle glanced at her tentatively, a small crease forming between his eyebrows. His head tilted slightly as he watched her. "Yeah," he said suddenly, backing her up. "Just catching up on the last couple of months and the cases I've missed. After all, Nikki Heat doesn't write herself. Besides, a writer does need to see his muse once and a while if he's to retain his inspiration."

Beckett gave him a sidelong glance, a little startled that he would even think of calling her 'his muse' in her presence. He returned her stare, challenging her to threaten him for using that moniker in describing her. Beckett squinted slightly, and pursed her lips, saying nothing, which actually seemed to surprise both Castle and Esposito.

Letting out a brief sigh of relief, as if he'd actually been afraid she'd hit him, she watched him turn to look up at their colleague, shifting in his chair to bring some more distance between them. "So… Beckett tells me that the Secret Service butted in and took away one of your cases. Man, I'd love to have been there to see that."

Esposito narrowed his eyes, looking between the two of them with a critical gaze. Beckett wasn't sure if they'd thrown him off the scent or just further intrigued his innate curiosity. He didn't really look convinced. And out of her two colleagues, Esposito had always been the one to notice the thing between her and Castle, and had been, at times, quite frank at pointing it out to her.

"Yeah… about that," Esposito spoke up, shifting on his feet awkwardly. He locked eyes with Beckett and she knew she wasn't going to like what he had to say. "They're here… now."

"What?"

"The DA's office called them the moment Greene confessed," he answered. "Finch arrived with a couple of his agents, and _Special_ Agent Arleen."

Beckett scoffed in annoyance. "Just great," she grumbled.

"Arleen?" Castle frowned, leaning closer to her. "Isn't that the FBI agent you said couldn't take a hint."

She turned towards him, and smirked at the hint of jealousy in his voice. "Maybe," she drawled out as she flicked her eyes down to his lips and then back up at his eyes. Castle swallowed, and she knew she had him. Oh… it felt so good to have him back.

"Detective Beckett?"

All three turned to see one of the uniforms peaking inside the break room, looking slightly nervous with all sets of eyes on him.

"Yes?" she asked, standing up.

"Captain Blye wants to see you… now."

Beckett inclined her head. "Thanks, Tanney."

The young officer quickly made himself scarce, still with that frightened look on his face. Castle was standing now, giving her a questioning look.

"So, I guess we're done with lunch," he said.

"Afraid so," she replied, shifting slightly on her feet as she ran her fingers through her hair. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs and turned to Esposito, signaling him with a tiny flick of her head. His eyes widened, and he got the message, murmuring some excuses about checking on Ryan before ducking out of the room, leaving them alone.

Beckett licked her lips nervously and glanced back at Castle. "I don't know how long I'll be today, but… I… um…," she stammered, trying to suck up the courage to just ask him. "Do… er… would you like to maybe get a drink when I get off work?"

Castle's eyes lit up in surprise, and a small smile spread across his lips, brightening up his whole face. "Yeah, yeah, I'd like that," he said. "After dinner, I assume?"

She laughed lightly. "You assume correctly," she shook her head, flirting her gaze out into the bullpen where she could see the gathering of black suits. "Depends on how much the Feds railroad things."

Castle inclined his head. "I'd better get out of your hair, and let you get to it, then. Can't have me distracting you," he flashed a witty grin, and turned back to the table to collect the remains of their lunch.

Beckett watched him, smiling slightly as she heard him humming softly. She bit her lower lip, and inclined her head, turning to leave the room, only to stop at the doorway and turn back, having a strong impulse to amend one of his statements.

"Castle?"

"Um… yeah?" he arched his neck over his shoulder to look back at her, his eyebrows raised in question.

"You're never a distraction," she asserted.

A wiry smile formed on his lips and his eyes sparkled. "I… um… I'll keep that in mind, Detective," Castle replied with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.

"See you tonight, Castle," she said, smirking, highly amused. "I'll give you a call."

"Until tonight, Beckett," he said, adding a wink and making her laugh.

Shaking her head, and biting her lower lip, attempting desperately to stifle her growing blush, Beckett took a step back and spun out of the room. She marched back through the bullpen and towards the captain's office. Stopping just inside the doorway, she knocked on the door until Blye waved her in.

She noticed that Secret Service Agent John Finch was there, along with _Special_ Agent Sam Arleen, both standing near Blye's desk as he talked on the phone. Her captain looked up at her, and gestured with on hand to the other person present. Just like Finch, his attire screamed Fed, but he was old and a little softer than the lead investigator. The man eyed up Beckett before extending his hand.

"Kenneth Keener," he said.

"Detective Kate Beckett," she replied, shaking the man's hand. He had a firm grip, but not unpleasant. She looked him in the eyes, reading him like she would a suspect. After a few seconds, she had him made. He wasn't a Fed. Close though. He was either a politician, or worked for a politician.

"Yes, sir, I understand… yes… okay, I'll send her over," Blye finished up his call, hanging up with an exasperated breath. He paused for a moment to collect himself. "Detective, Mr. Keener is from the Governor's staff." Beckett smiled inwardly; pleased she'd been able to have Keener pegged within seconds. "Apparently the Governor wants a personal briefing on the case."

"Oh… um, okay, but can't the Secret Service do that, after all they _are_ the ones handling the Fenton case," Beckett replied, not holding back on the snarky tone as she glared across at Arleen. "Why are _you_ here, anyways?"

"Greene's being transferred into our custody," Arleen said. "The reports you filed stated he had contact with one of our most wanted."

"The 'Fixer'," Beckett said with a nod.

"The one and only," Arleen replied with a cocky grin. "The Bureau has been hunting this bastard for years. We aren't about to let a lead like this be squandered."

"And with the similarities in the two cases," Finch interjected, "we believe that the 'Fixer' was most likely the same man that killed Congressman Fenton."

"That may be, but _we_ arrested Greene," she snapped, turning back to Blye for help. "He confessed to paying for the hit on Peter Beynon. We can't just let them take him when he has to answer for that. Sir?"

Blye raised his hands to silence her. "I'm sorry, Beckett. It's out of our hands. 1PP called while you were on break. The transfer orders have already been processed. He's the FBI's problem now."

"Which frees you up to come with me to the Waldorf and brief Governor Howard," Keener said with a charming smile. She narrowed her eyes, not at all pleased.

"Why me?" Beckett asked, baffled as to why they'd want her for this assignment. It made much more sense for Finch or one of his men to give the report to the Governor. And since she was pulled off of Congressman Fenton's case, she really didn't have anything to offer besides her initial observations from the crime scene.

"The Governor wants you," Keener answered after a brief hesitation. "He's a big fan of the Nikki Heat series."

"Great," she grumbled under her breath. That's just what she needed: A fan. Even if that fan was the Governor of New York and a leading candidate for his party's nomination for the presidency. Blye gave her a sympathetic look. She let out a frustrated sigh, turning back to Keener. "Let me grab my notes, and then I'll be ready to go." Beckett gave him a nod and walked out of the room without waiting for Blye to dismiss her.

Arleen followed her out, standing next to her desk as she went through her files. She glanced up at him, annoyed at his proximity.

"Don't you have something better to do? Like take _my_ prisoner into your custody?" she asked, straightening up to grab her coat off the back of her chair. She pulled it over her shoulders and slipped her arms through the sleeves, gracing Arleen with one of her glares that would normally send any guy for the hills. However, the FBI agent remained in place, undaunted by her fiery stare.

"When you're done briefing the governor, how about we get drinks," he offered, that cocky grin still plastered on his face. He didn't even phrase it as a question, more like a statement of fact. He just assumed she'd be dying to have drinks with him. As if.

"Sorry," she flashed him an unapologetic smile. "But I have plans."

His smug expression dropped, replaced by a slight downward frown and raised eyebrows. He waffled for a moment, before pushing his luck even further. "Oh… um… maybe some other time then?"

"No… I don't think so," Beckett replied, pretending to think about it. Really, this guy just couldn't take a hint. If he kept up with pestering her, she'd have to sic Esposito on him. Or, she could file a sexual harassment complaint, which might be nice, seeing as Arleen could stand to be knocked down a peg or two.

Collecting her files, Beckett picked up her notebook and brushed past him, blocking him out. She spotted Keener waiting by the elevator, where Castle was standing as well. The author was talking animatedly with the man, and she smiled, enjoying seeing Castle expressing himself once more with his lively personality. She paused and glanced over to Hank's desk, deciding to leave a note for her partner to let him know where she was.

Finishing that, Beckett turned around and walked out of the bullpen, joining the two men standing by the elevator. Castle glanced over and smiled, his eyes lighting up with an emotion she was trying so hard to not see right now, even if she was no longer denying its existence.

"Detective Beckett," Keener interrupted their silent eye exchange.

"Um… yes, Mr. Keener?" Beckett broke her eye contact with Castle to speak with him. She knitted her eyebrows together, silently telling herself to get a grip and focus on her job.

"I was just speaking with Mr. Castle," he said, gesturing toward to writer, "and he informed me that he is no longer shadowing your team."

"No, he is not," Beckett said, stifling the remorse she felt over no longer having him at her side as her partner. Hank was good and all, but he wasn't Castle. "But when he was, he was a big help," she added, purposely looking over Keener's shoulder at Castle. He smiled proudly, inclining his head in a silent 'thank you'. She returned his smile, pursing her lips together.

"Oh, that's unfortunate," Keener continued, oblivious to the exchange between the former partners. "However, seeing as he used to work with your team, would you object if he came with us to brief the Governor?"

"What?" Beckett eyes snapped back to the staffer, caught off guard by the question.

"As I said, the Governor is a big fan of the Nikki Heat series," Keener elaborated. "And I believe he'd really enjoy it if Mr. Castle tagged along, as long as you have no objections to that?"

"Oh," she raised her eyebrows, giving it considerable thought. How helpful could he be? All Castle knew about the case was what she'd told him. But she really wanted him to come with her, even if it was just because the governor was a fan of his books. She bit her lower lip and allowed her gaze to flick up to Castle again, her decision made. "No… no objections at all."

"Great!" enthused Keener. "I'm sure the Governor will really appreciate this."

The elevator doors opened, expelling a disgruntled looking Kevin Ryan, who was attempting to balance several Styrofoam takeout containers in his arms. The detective paused when he spotted Castle and his face lit up. The two exchanged quick greetings while doing a little dance around each other as they changed places. Beckett pursed her lips in a tight smile and stepped into the elevator with Keener, placing her hand on the rubber door bumper to keep the doors open.

"Ah, man… you're leaving already?" Ryan whined, watching as Castle backed up into the elevator.

"Sorry, Ryan," Castle said, sympathetically as he noticed the sad expression on the other man's face. "I just stopped by for lunch with Beckett."

Ryan gave a quick nod of understanding, his eyes darting over towards Beckett with keen interest. She narrowed her eyes, refusing to give anything away. Besides, his cohort would probably inform him later about what he'd witnessed in the break room.

"Hey, how about you and Javier come by my place Friday and we'll have a Halo match," Castle offered to the disappointed detective. "Just like old times."

Ryan perked up, his attention focused back on the writer. "Yeah, that sounds cool."

Castle grinned and turned his head slightly to wink at Beckett before returning his attention to Ryan. He held up his hand to his ear like it was a phone. "I'll give you a call."

"Great… see you later, Castle," Ryan said, as he bobbed his head excitedly, turning around to take the huge stack of takeout containers into the bullpen, already hollering out his partner's name to ask for some help.

Beckett suppressed a laugh at the exchange, yet, at the same time, she couldn't help but notice how it had brightened Castle's demeanor. That, alone, made any awkwardness on her part worth it. She stepped back, letting her hand drop so that the elevator's doors could now close, and punched the button for the precinct lobby. Flicking her eyes up, she glanced across at Castle, catching him staring at her with a small smirk tugging his pursed lips up, his eyes twinkling slightly with amusement… and something else.

For just a moment, Beckett was able to forget that they weren't alone in the elevator. His gave was intense and riveting, but in a good way. It made her feel alive, more so than she had in the past couple of months or her entire life, if she was being truly honest with herself. Castle just had a way of making her feel… _things_ , like no one else had. And that's what made him so special to her. So very special.

She might not be ready to give voice to those… _feelings_ … but she was getting close. Beckett was positive that once they worked past some of the issues around them that she and Castle would build a lasting relationship, the likes of which she'd never believed herself capable of having.

Perhaps tonight, when they had drinks together—maybe at her place, she could come out and play, letting go of the shell that was Beckett and just be Kate.


	23. Chapter 23

Castle couldn't help but smile at his good fortune. The most he could have hoped for today was to sit down and have lunch with Beckett—maybe work at scaling that wall of hers—but never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined going out with her on a case, even if it was just a post-case briefing with an interested third party… helped, too, that said interested third party was the Governor of New York.

Sitting in the back of the town-car with Beckett and Keener, Castle wracked his brain, trying to remember if he'd donated to or attended any of Governor Howard's fundraisers. He wasn't really that political himself, unless it came to Bob. He was tight with the Mayor, and since they were friends, Castle did like helping out when he could.

He glanced over at Beckett, watching as she flipped through her notepad, her lips moving silently as she reviewed her case notes. Castle could tell by the way her brow furrowed that she was nervous. After all, it wasn't everyday that a NYPD Detective got called in to brief the Governor of New York on a highly intricate and complicated case that involved one of the FBI's most wanted.

His lips pursed together as he allowed his eyes to flow over her, reading her as best he could. Despite the obvious nervous anxiety about meeting with the Governor, Beckett seemed quite calm and content. Castle leaned back against the soft leather cushions, pleased—and pleasantly surprised—when she had not objected to riding along with them. The Kate Beckett he knew would have balked at such luxury, but this Kate Beckett just took it all in stride and had ducked her head down, climbing into the high-end town car like it was no big deal.

Her eyes lifted up from the pages of her notepad and she glanced over at him with… was that a smile on her lips? He frowned, confused. She seemed different. There was no 'closed-off' vibe radiating out as she looked at him. She was generally happy that he was there… maybe even relieved. He shifted on soft cushions, suddenly uncomfortable.

Swallowing down his rising emotions, Castle tilted his head away, barely catching her bringing a hand up to flip back some of her hair, in a manner that was far too alluring to be legal, and focusing back on her notes. He watched as they weaved through the afternoon traffic, occasionally letting his attention wander to the lives of those outside…

A cabby was barking at a cyclist, who was blocking the way.

A little girl was tugging on her mother's jeans.

Two teenage boys were trying to be oh so subtle as they ogled the large billboards with barely clad supermodels.

And finally, an elderly couple were holding hands and lost in each others eyes, still very much in love after all their years together.

Castle couldn't help but lose himself in that image, and he cautiously turned his eyes back to Kate, wondering if that could be their future. _God, I hope it is_ , he thought, gazing longingly at her as she adorably knitted her eyebrows together in concentration.

XXX

They stepped off the elevator on the penthouse floor, and were immediately confronted by security personnel. Castle held up his arms and parted his legs, submitting to the indignity of a quick pat down. The Secret Service were not taking any chances. Beckett looked just as enthusiastic about the security check, but she relented, tossing him a knowing look of shared humiliation. After Beckett's badge number was confirmed and they were both cleared, they followed Keener down the hall.

Castle scooted up next to Beckett. "If I had known I'd be groped at, I would have requested that female Secret Service agent who was feeling you up."

Beckett snorted out a short laugh. "It's protocol in this PC era," she said, glancing at him quickly. "She had to be the one to pat me down so they could avoid accusations of sexual harassment if a male agent's hands had lingered too long on certain… _areas_. If it was really important to you, Castle, we could have just swapped places. Besides, the guy patting you down was kind of cute." When she looked at him again, he noticed that her eyes had a gleam of a mischief nature to them.

He stopped in his tracks, mouth agape, unable to form a coherent comeback. Beckett pursed her lips in a tight smile, suppressing a laugh as she shook her head at him. She paused and turned back to stare at him, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

"You coming, Castle?"

An involuntary shiver ran up his spine as he conjured up other, more pleasant, scenarios in which Beckett would utter those words to him, with a wholly different meaning. Her lips quirked up in a devious little grin and he narrowed his eyes at her. Oh, she knew exactly what she was doing to him, didn't she?

Huffing out breath, Castle picked up the pace to catch up with her. Beckett waited for him. When he caught up, he gestured for her to continue down the hall. She nodded with a knowing smile, before walking over to the door to the penthouse suite that Keener was holding open.

"Great idea, Jimmy. You're lucky I'm on your side, otherwise I'd be tempted to warn your opponent."

A boisterous laugh filled the room as Castle ducked inside, following closely behind Beckett. So close, in fact, that he could smell the whiff of cherries in her wake. Keener led the way, and they rounded a corner, finding themselves in a luxuriously appointed lounge, with large windows providing gorgeous views of the city.

Two men were standing by the window, each with a glass of scotch in hand, smiling amicably. The older of the two turned and smile broadly. "Looks like Kenneth is returning with Nikki Heat," the man laughed, giving his friend a wink. It was hard not to recognized James "Jimmy" Howard. The man was a giant in New York politics and was a shoo-in for his party's nomination for presidency. Castle didn't know the man beside him, but he looked familiar.

Governor Howard put his glass of scotch down on a side table and stepped forward, extending his hand to Beckett. "I'm very pleased you could take time out of your hectic schedule to come and talk to me, Detective Beckett," he said, voice smooth and charming. Always the politician.

Beckett smiled and shook his hand, inclining her head. "No problem, Governor," she said.

Howard cocked his head and looked over her shoulder, spying Castle. "I was unaware that Richard Castle was still shadowing you," he said, and before Beckett could respond to correct him, he was stepping around her to grab a startled Castle's hand, giving him a firm handshake, his other hand gripping Castle's forearm. A politician's handshake. "I'm a big fan, Mr. Castle."

"Thank you, sir," he smiled, having trouble reconciling the fact that he was shaking hands with the man who was probably going to be the next President of the United Sates and was a fan of his books.

"Please, call me Jimmy," Howard enthused, clapping Castle's shoulder in a friendly manner before stepping back and gesturing for them to take a seat.

Castle looked to Beckett for direction, and followed as she sat down on the couch facing the windows. Howard dismissed Keener with a wave of his hand and then sat down on a leather armchair across from them. The other man stepped over and took a seat in the other armchair, swirling the scotch in his hand before taking a sip.

"This is my friend Bill," Howard introduced the middle-aged man. He was smartly dressed and Castle could sense the camaraderie between the two men. Greetings and pleasantries were exchanged before they got done to business.

Castle sat back and watched as Beckett gave the Governor the bullet points on the case. Peter Beynon, a real estate agent, had been found shot, execution style, in the back alley behind an erotica store. His murderer was a hitman who went by the codename 'The Fixer'. Beynon's business partner, Timothy Greene, had confessed to hiring the hitman to kill Beynon. Congressmen Henry Fenton had also been murdered, in a similar fashion… and the MO matched that of the 'Fixer'. The Secret Service was handling that case, but she was willing to tell the Governor all she knew about it. Howard inclined his head, and Beckett nodded before going on into what she knew about Fenton's case. _Yes… all very_ _interesting_ , Castle thought, knowing full well that Beckett was leaving out the really juicy stuff, the stuff that showed links between her mother's case and his shooting.

He relaxed his back and clasped his hands in his lap as he listened to the sweet reverberations of Beckett's voice as she continued to explain the case to the Governor. It was more the sound of her voice he was hearing than what she was saying. She'd already informed him on the details of the case, so he really didn't need to hear it again.

As he continued to savor the beautiful quality of her voice—because no matter what she was talking about her voice was always like a siren's call to him—Castle caught sight of the Governor's friend staring at him.

He fidgeted beside Beckett, casting a sidelong glance across at 'Bill'. The man looked oddly familiar. There had to be a reason for that. Castle prided himself on being able to read people, and deciphering who they were. Castle liked to sometimes envision himself as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's legendary Sherlock Holmes. But with the man sitting across from him, he was having a very hard time doing that. Yet, at the same time, Castle was getting the distinct impression that he should know who this man was, but he couldn't place a name—other than the one the Governor had supplied—with the face. Throughout the early part of the briefing, 'Bill' had been staring at him with an intensity that was beyond mere curiosity of a closet fan. It was like 'Bill' was sizing him up, searching for weaknesses.

Something was wrong.

Castle was getting a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, and it wasn't indigestion. He swallowed and licked his lips nervously, glancing back and forth between the Governor and 'Bill'. He noticed that Howard wasn't asking any questions. He just nodded with each fact that Beckett provided. It was like there was more to this meeting than Governor Howard wanting to be kept informed about a potential threat to his person. After all, everything Beckett was currently telling him was nothing that the Secret Service couldn't have handled. Castle was beginning to suspect that this briefing was someone else's idea, but whose, he couldn't say.

He turned his attention back to Howard's friend, watching as the man sipped from his glass of scotch, watching both of them with cool calculating eyes. He was far too calm to be disinterested in the conversation and he seemed to have an interest in Beckett. The man's eyes kept shifting over to her now and again with a strange glint to them. And it clearly wasn't that he found her attractive and was appreciating her natural beauty. There was something else at work here.

Being him, Castle started to come up with wildly insane theories. And being him, the first theory to pop into his head involved spies. Perhaps 'Bill' was with the CIA or some other governmental agency and had roped the Governor into some clandestine operation that Beckett's murder investigation had intersected with. After all, those files about the 'Fixer' she'd told him about were all redacted. Maybe Congressman Fenton had been leaking classified materials and was secretly silenced by America's covert agencies. And now they were working on a cover-up. So first thing they needed to do was find out how much the local LEOs knew.

But that was absurd… and just… crazy, even for him. If that theory had been the truth, then some men in black would have already swooped in and taken over the case long before Beckett and her team had been called to the scene.

Shaking his head, Castle leaned back and tried to focus on the conversation going on between his favorite detective and the Governor of New York. But his mind wouldn't remain silent. When he was intrigued, he just never gave up… his steadfast determination to following Kate Beckett around was testament to that stubborn tenancy. Cocking his head, ever so slightly, he stared across at 'Bill', watching as the man scrutinized Beckett with keen, critical eyes.

And then, out of the blue, it hit him. As the man leaned further back into his chair and finished off his scotch, Castle suddenly remembered where he'd seen this man before. It had been on TV and on leaflets and billboards all throughout New York. 'Bill' was a senator, up for reelection. That's why he looked so familiar. And, judging by the obvious friendship between the two men, Castle would wager good money that the two were in the same political party.

"Mr. Castle, could I trouble you for an autograph?"

Castle blinked, startled out of his thoughts, as he turned to look up across at Governor Howard. "Um… sure yes, no problem, Jimmy," he cracked a grin, falling easily into the public persona he'd spent years crafting and honing until it was like a second skin. Howard grinned and pulled himself out of his armchair, disappearing into a backroom. Castle let out a breath and flashed a quick polite smile at Senator 'Bill', before tilting his head to look at Beckett.

"You okay, Castle?" she asked softly, giving him a questioning look.

"I'll explain later," he whispered back.

The Governor returned with a brand new copy of _Heat Rises_. "If I hadn't been so busy with the campaign, I would have attended the launch party. But as things are, my time is very limited, so I had an aide run over to the closest bookstore to get a copy."

Castle chuckled. "It was quite the party, Jimmy," he said, still finding it strange that he was talking to the man most likely to be the next President of the United States in such a familiar manner. He picked up the book and reached inside his coat pocket for a pen when he remembered he didn't have one.

"Here," Beckett murmured, handing him her pen, a smirk on her lips.

Their fingers brushed as she passed him the pen, and it was like electricity had zapped through his skin. Clearly, by her wide eyes, she'd had a similar sensation. Castle bobbed his head in thanks, and turned to the book, opening the cover to the title page to write out a personalized autograph for the Governor. When he was done, he closed the book and handed it to a very happy James Howard.

The Governor opened the book and read the autograph, chuckling with a smile. "Thank you, Mr. Castle, this is a really treat," his eyes sparked with amusement, and Castle smiled in returned, pleased that the Governor found his witty joke funny.

Keener stepped in. "Governor Howard, we're running late for the Neccos Foundation fundraiser gala."

"Oh, right," Howard said, nodding his head, he stood up, everyone following suit. He looked toward Beckett and Castle. "Again, thank you for coming, Detective, Mr. Castle. It is much appreciated." He shook their hands and then was being ushered out of the room by another aide. Keener remained behind in order to help direct Castle and Beckett through the penthouse suite and to the door.

When they were back in the elevator, heading down for the lobby, Castle turned to Beckett. "Is it just me, or was there something off with that other guy?"

She tilted her head towards him with a questioning look, raising an eyebrow, slightly perplexed by his 'out of nowhere' query. "You mean the Governor's friend?"

"Yeah," he bobbed his head, feeling somewhat foolish now that he was voicing his thoughts. After all, the guy was probably just curious about what was going on. Maybe Castle just reading too much into things. His therapist did say that he often displayed a slightly paranoid personality at times, and that he always seemed to compulsively look for conspiracies where none existed.

"You wouldn't believe… no, correction, you would," Castle laughed, self-deprecatingly. "But, at first, when he just sat there staring at us, and I was still confused as to who he was and why he was there, I actually kind of thought he might be CIA—" Beckett let out an amused snort, but didn't interrupt. "—But he just looked so familiar. It kind of bugs me that I can't place his name… other than the run-of-the-mill name of 'Bill' that Governor Howard introduced him with."

Beckett inclined her head, giving him a bemused, but understanding look. "Of course he looks familiar, Castle," she said, chuckling lightly. "His face is plastered on over half the billboards in the city. Bill, as the Governor called him, is Senator William Bracken."

XXX

She found it highly amusing how Castle was still so stunned that he hadn't recognized the senator. She took the opportunity to tease him for a bit, before backing down. Reaching over, being very bold, she thought, Kate placed a hand on his arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Don't beat yourself up over it, Castle," she said, her voice soft and soothing. "You've been kind of out of the loop for a while, focusing on recovering from a major trauma. That is more important than knowing about the current state of national politics."

"But still… he's _our_ senator, I think I might have even voted for him in the last election," Castle said, sounding disappointed in himself for not remembering.

Kate sighed, and shook her head. Though, she got what he was saying. Castle prided himself on being very knowledgeable about the people he came into contact with, even if he didn't know them personally. He liked to think he could read them, find out what made them tick. She was like that too, in a lot of ways. But, as of right now, Kate believed Castle was being too hard on himself.

"Hey," she turned back to him, catching him staring off to space, a frown forming on his brow. "It's nearly five, and seeing how there's just paperwork left at the precinct, I'm going to call it a day." He nodded his head in understanding. "So… um… since we missed out on going out for lunch, can I treat you to dinner?"

"Dinner?" his eyes lit up, and Kate had to try hard not to let her beaming smile spread out across her face at seeing his gleeful reaction.

"Yeah, nothing fancy mind you, just burgers and fries at Remy's," she interjected before he could get carried away.

"And shakes," he hummed in approval. "Strawberry shakes."

Kate let her smile out at that, and nodded bashfully, attempting to stifle the flutter in her chest at the fact he still remembered her favorite milkshake. Right now, having milkshakes with Castle sounded far more appealing than going to some bar to get drinks, which had been her original plan. "So? What do you say, Castle? You up for dinner?"

"Absolutely," he answered without hesitation.

Her smile bloomed, brightening up her entire demeanor. All the other worries that stormed around her just seemed to float away when he looked at her like that, eyes warm and tender, with a hint of lust behind it all. She ducked her head, shyly, biting down on her lower lip, and averted her gaze as she tried to stifle the blush that was forming on her cheeks. She was being very bold today. More so than she ever had been before.

But that's what she had decided last night, when she had been lying in her bed wide awake in the middle of the night, unable to really sleep after the amazing time she'd had with Castle and Alexis at the loft. The family dinner atmosphere they had was marvelous, warm and comforting. And she wanted to be a part of that, to finally start living her life… living it with the man she wanted to be with… a man who was most probably her 'one and done'.

" _Itsadate_!" she blurted out, so fast that even she couldn't comprehend what she'd just said.

"What?"

"Just for the record," Kate breathed out slowly, lifting her eyes up to meet his, trying to slow down her rapidly beating heart. "This dinner… me and you… this isn't just two friends going out to eat and catching up."

"I kno—"

Before he could answer, as it was part of her sudden plan to speak it all out loud, Kate rushed out with it, practically screaming " _Itsadate_!" all over again. She gritted her teeth, wrinkling her nose in frustration, and cursed her anxious nerves.

Taking a quick breath, she rolled her shoulders, loosening her muscles and willing herself to relax. She flirted her eyes up to his, drawing strength from the awesome power of sheer adoration radiating out from his blue orbs. "Me and you… tonight… It is a date," she finally managed to get out. She drew in a quick breath and waited for his response.

Castle stared at her, long and hard, his eyes filled with such utter awe and adoration that Kate felt like she'd melt right there. Her breath remained still as he formulated his answer. Slowly, a small crooked smile formed across his face as he regarded her with eyes that spoke so much more than words could. And she wasn't afraid. For the first time since she could remember… she wasn't afraid.

"Agreed," he said, his voice soft and warm, so full of feelings. "It's a date."


End file.
